Plato's Step-Daughter
by xstormqueenx
Summary: As the LITS learn how to become fully-fledged Librarians, Clara struggles to find her place in the fight, having to contend with an array of immortals along the way. {And The Horns of The Dilemma, AU}.
1. Ain't That Unusual

**Author's Note:** This is the sequel to _And She Was Not An Adventure._ The reading order so far for all of my Flynn/Clara fiction is: _And She Was Not An Adventure_ and _Plato's Step-Daughter._ Each new Flynn/Clara story will include an updated reading order. All my Librarians fiction can be found under the 'My Stories' section of my profile. Videos for characters canon and original, can be found on my Youtube channel via the link on my profile.

* * *

 **Ain't That Unusual**

 _Before_

 _"I know Flynn is_ technically _the Librarian," Jenkins said as Clara came through the doorway, almost tripping over his tea-trolley, "and that I_ technically _work for the Librarian..." he continued, glancing up at Clara._ "Oh _hello,_ Delilah _," he drawled, his nostrils flaring with dislike. "How was the tonsil-tennis? Got Wimbledon in your sights, have we?"_

 _Clara blushed hotly and furiously, her fists clenching by her sides, the others raising their eyebrows at her, Ezekiel shooting her a knowing grin._

 _"Look," Eve interjected, striding forwards, until she was almost nose to nose with him, "you don't really have a choice in this, Jenkins. These four will be using this Annex as a base of operations, and I'll be supervising their security. So make yourself useful, or make yourself gone." Her words hung in the air, making Jenkins finally back down._

 _"I suppose there's always the clippings book," he said, sticking his nose in the air._

 _"What's a 'clippings book'?" Cassandra asked, shrinking into herself slightly, still unsure of her place amongst them._

 _"O child of the annoying digital age," Jenkins sighed heavily, "let me enlighten you on the ancient art of scrapbooking." He led the way over to Flynn's desk, the others trailing after him like lost souls, watching as he lifted up a heavy-looking book, its covers battered, its spine cracked. "It's how we used to gather information about news-stories," he explained, flicking through its many pages. "Each page has clippings from different sources detailing a bizarre mystery" -_

 _\- "We really don't need some scrapbook full of old newspaper articles," Jacob said impatiently, straightening his scarf. "We're here to save the world, not mince through micro-film."_

 _"O silly Mid-Western person," Jenkins said, shaking his head. "This clippings book is the_ Library's _clippings book." He shut it with a loud bang. "Every night there is a new page," he continued, setting it back down on the desk, "with new information about a new mystery happening that very day, and will you be quiet!" he snapped at the complaining desk. "It's not my fault they're as ignorant as a new born infant!"_

 _"Says the buffoon in the bow-tie," the desk said nastily. "Fancy a game of hypocrisy, anyone?"_

 _Jenkins rolled his eyes. "Come, let's begin," he said to the others, beckoning them forwards, before flipping the book open again. "Ah," he said, "here we go..."_

* * *

 _One month later_

Clara strutted down the sidewalk like it was a catwalk, feeling like a complete fool. She was wearing an all too convincing blonde wig, her skin slathered in fake tan, her hem and heels outrageously high. It had been Eve's idea to cast Clara in the role of bait, pointing out Clara's power lay in her pretty face. Eve was trying to teach them to play to their strengths, but it was a lesson Clara didn't want to learn. Her main strength was her brain, not the way she looked, but Eve was adamant it wasn't, an argument Eve had won by dressing Clara up like Trailer Trash Barbie.

"I'm not just a pretty face, Baird," Clara muttered mutinously, swinging her designer handbag with too much vigour, making it almost connect with a passing cop's nose.

"Hey, watch it!" the cop yelled, batting it aside.

"I'm _soooooooo_ sorry," Clara gushed, struggling to stay in character as she simpered up at him. "Please forgive me."

The cop did a double-take, his gaze then travelling downwards, Clara fighting the urge to cover up her cleavage. "Say you're single and I might," he grinned, tilting the brim of his cap back.

Clara just simpered some more before sashaying off down the sidewalk again, cursing Eve to the darkest depths of hell. She felt ridiculous and she looked ridiculous, a fact confirmed by the smirk Ezekiel was sporting as he approached her, wearing a false moustache and trench-coat that made him resemble a flasher.

"Lookin' good, girl," he said in a false Southern drawl, his compliment code for _he's right behind you._

Clara just blew him a kiss, code for _understood_. She fought the urge to run, remembering the burnt out corpse of the demon's last victim, the memory reminding her that she was making a fool of herself for good reason.

"Fancy going to hell in a hand-cart, honey?" an oddly melodious voice said from behind her, making her slowly turn around.

"Only if you're my escort," she pouted, tossing her hair back, making a show of appraising him, not missing the too sharp angles of his face, how he held himself like a sword about to strike, death dancing in his eyes. To the average mortal, he looked like a prosperous businessman, but not to Clara, not now. The scales had been ripped from her eyes and she saw magic was everywhere; in the fall of a footstep; in the sleight of a hand.

"If I may?" he said, gesturing to the limousine that silently drew up beside them.

Clara hesitated for a split second, panic paralysing her. This wasn't part of the plan Eve had gone over and over again in the Annex with them. It had all started with a newspaper clipping, detailing how the charred remains of several beautiful blondes had been found scattered around the city, seemingly forming some sort of grand-scale sacrifice, or so Jenkins had theorized, the case piquing Eve's interest, seeing it as another chance to turn her LITs into fully fledged Librarians.

Learning to become a Librarian required on the job training, and Eve had been using every opportunity to fling them into the deep end, chanting the mantra _sink or swim_ at them like a maniac. Jenkins had expressed some approbation at Eve's ideas of imparting knowledge, but Eve had argued Clara and the others were learning their trade in a controlled environment, even if the ensuing chaos contradicted her ethos.

So after some serious detective work and two brushes with death, Jacob and Cassandra had uncovered the killer's identity and the bases where he operated from, a hell-demon imaginatively called Demos who rather oddly cruised high class shopping districts for his victims, and so here Clara was, luring their prey out into the open, only to be lured into a limo in turn, the predator becoming the prey instead.

Demos raised his eyebrows at her, looking displeased at her dithering. Clara hastily giggled like a gormless idiot, trying to cover her tracks. To her relief, his frown faded, becoming replaced by a mocking smile. With an exaggerated flourish, he flung open the door for her, Clara sliding into the back seat with less than graceful ease, her heel becoming caught in a drain covering as she did. But she pulled herself free, pulling herself together, realising this was the sink or swim moment Eve had been ranting on about.

"What a beautiful vehicle," she observed airily as Demos sat beside her, slamming the limo door shut.

"Not as beautiful as you, Clara," he said, startling her.

"How" -

\- "You make an excellent honey trap," Demos said, idly laying his hand on her thigh, making her freeze. "And I've always admired courage, particularly in mortals, but bravery will only get you so far, Clara, and while it may have got you here, to this back seat" -

The next thing he knew was a knife through his throat, pinning him to the car upholstery, Clara's face inches from his own. "This blade hasn't been blessed, so the most it will do is sting you a little," she said from between gritted teeth, "but while it does, let's talk, shall we?"

"Your Guardian is going to be very angry with you," Demos hissed, "or what's left of you anyways" -

\- "What can I say, except that I've gone rogue," Clara hissed back, fighting the fear threatening to overwhelm her, "so I suggest you reconcile yourself to dealing with me and only me."

But the next thing she knew was that she was pinned to the back seat, Demos on top of her, tearing the knife out of his throat, his claw-like hands circling her own neck, choking the life out of her, his touch scorching her flesh. Then there was gunshots, bullets blowing the tyres out, the limo skidding out of control as Clara took her last breath, the world fading from her.

 _Now I feel unknown_  
 _And it's safe that way…_

* * *

"What did I say about the plan, Clara?" Eve asked, pacing the floor in front of Clara.

"That we stick religiously to it?" Cassandra piped up helpfully.

"Is your name Clara? No, it isn't, so shut the hell up," Eve spat, making Cassandra shrink into herself.

"Hey, don't speak to her like that," Jacob flared up. "Clara may have screwed up, but the rest of us didn't, so don't take your shit out on Cassie."

Cassandra stared at him, surprised.

"If I remember correctly, _Cassie_ sold us out to the Serpent Brotherhood, resulting in me getting a sword in my side," Clara snapped, "so if you want to talk about screwing up, I suggest you start with her."

"Touché," Jenkins said dryly as he went past, dragging a stuffed dromedary behind him.

"Look, throwing a temper tantrum isn't going to help us banish Demos back to hell," Ezekiel said, standing up, "so I suggest we hit the drawing board again, and start over."

"Start where though, Jones?" Eve said. "Demos has disappeared into thin air. Thanks to Clara's have-a-go-hero routine, we've got more chance of finding the Golden Fleece than him."

"Not really," Jenkins said, going past again, carrying a tea tray this time, "Flynn left it lying around somewhere in Architectural Exports."

Eve just shook her head before stalking off, disappearing through the doors, leaving a tense silence in her wake.

"Alright, this is awkward," Ezekiel observed, sitting back down again.

"Of course it is," Cassandra said pertly. "We've messed up - again."

"No, _I_ messed up," Clara said tiredly, taking her blonde wig off. "Eve's right to be angry, I did screw up - big-time."

"Just like I said," Jacob said, folding his arms over his chest.

"Alright, alright, you don't need to keep reminding me," Clara said, glaring at him.

"Look, you scared the shit out of us getting into that limo with him," Jacob said, becoming angry now, "it was too close a call, Clara, too damn close."

Clara just scowled at him, her hand unconsciously massaging her bruised neck. Jenkins had applied some arnica to it, tutting while he did so, mumbling he wasn't Florence Nightingale, but the surprising concern in his dark eyes had belied his complaining, making Clara feel even more guilty than she did already. She hadn't just risked her own life, but those of the others as well, and that was something Eve wasn't prepared to let go. Her main objective was to keep them alive, but there was only so much she could do; they had to cover their own backs as well as each other's, and Clara had just dragged them into even further danger by disobeying Eve's orders.

"You do realise you're not the group's Guardian?" Jenkins said dourly, making Clara glance up. "That's Eve's job, not yours."

"I stepped out of line, so what?" Clara said, doing a complete 360.

"Christ on a cracker, Clara!" Jacob exploded. "And there's me thinking I was getting through that thick skull of yours!"

"My IQ's higher than yours actually," Clara pointed out.

"You know what, buy yourself a one way ticket to hell if you want," Jacob said, getting to his feet, "s'long as you're not bringing us along for the ride, I don't care." With that, he turned and left, heading up the sweeping staircase, taking two at a time, Clara staring at his retreating back in shock.

"He didn't mean it, Clara," Cassandra said quickly, exchanging a worried look with Ezekiel.

"Just because he defended you against Eve doesn't mean he's your friend, Cassie," Clara snapped, getting to her own feet, "and it doesn't mean you're mine either. I haven't forgotten what you did, even if the others pretend to have. So - so just leave me alone, alright!?"


	2. Bunty & Archie

**Bunty & Archie**

 _I'm paper and I'm snow_  
 _I'm yours but I go slow_  
 _I'm lost but not alone..._

Clara slammed the fridge door shut, balancing the jumbo-sized tub of _Dippin Dots_ on her hip as she reached for the wine-rack, deliberating between the _Chateau Margaux_ or the _Domaine de la Romanèe Conti._ She used to fantasize about living this kind of life, but her bank balance had kicked such dreams to the kerb, until the day Flynn had skipped her in the queue at Starbucks. Now, thanks to her monthly parchment pay slip, she was laughing all the way to the bank, the tellers practically rolling out the red carpet for her every time she darkened their doors.

But for all the perks, Clara wasn't happy. It wasn't the irregular hours and even more irregular events that made up her work-load, but something more intangible, a vague doubt that undermined all she attempted to do. She was losing faith in not just herself, but also the others. Instead of making progress in their quest to become fully-fledged Librarians, they were backsliding to the point of blunder, and no matter what Eve did, she couldn't bring them back to par. The mistakes they were making were becoming near misses; Clara's being the closest call yet.

Yet the discord went deeper than that. There was factions springing up, Ezekiel siding with Cassandra, Jacob caught between Cassandra and Clara, swinging like a pendulum between the pair, whilst Clara struggled to forgive and forget what Cassandra had done, selling them out to the Serpent Brotherhood, almost inadvertently killing Clara in the process. For all Flynn's wise words on faith, Clara just couldn't bring herself to trust Cassandra again. And if it wasn't Cassandra, it was Eve, Clara butting heads with both women, making Clara think so much for sisterhood.

A strange sort of power struggle had sprung up between Clara and Eve, leading to several rows, placing everyone even under more pressure. Everything Eve suggested, Clara challenged, Jenkins making an odd third in the fray, uncharacteristically backing Clara up before doing a complete 360 and backstabbing her. He was on nobody's side but his own, preferring to pass his time by stirring up trouble, always reminding them how much he resented their presence, pointing out their weak points whilst reminiscing about things they would rather forget, like the time Ezekiel got himself and Clara trapped in a Wendy House, or the night Jacob had accidentally unleashed a sand-storm in Cassandra's brand-new bathroom, wrecking her marble tiling.

Initially, Clara thought Eve's animosity was over losing Flynn to a lesser rival. She knew Eve was in contact with Flynn, and the knowledge stung, Clara having heard nothing from him, but Eve was their Guardian, Flynn _the_ Librarian, and since Clara didn't fancy playing piggy in the middle, she kept quiet, stewing in silence instead. It was beneath her dignity to start scrapping with Eve over a man, and it was even more beneath Eve's dignity to do so as well, so they tried and failed to keep the peace.

But Flynn wasn't the problem. Whatever Eve had felt for him, it had been fleeting, fading into friendship instead. The problem seemed to be about who held the upper hand, Eve forcing Clara to capitulate at every turn, Clara rebelling at every corner, turning the Annex into an oestrogen-fuelled battlefield. As she finally decided on the _Chateau Margaux,_ Clara tiredly suspected this was why she'd literally risked her neck in the limousine, trying to get one up on Eve, only to spectacularly fail, Eve having the last word by getting Clara's apartment blessed from top to toe by an exorcist, the rooms now wreaking of incense, crucifixes nailed over every door and window, as well as the one now hanging around Clara's bruised neck.

Carefully levering the wine bottle free, she picked up the Sangraal Jenkins had surprisingly pressed on her, before heading for her bedroom, dragging her feet as she went. With Flynn gone, life had taken on a Bridget Jones bent. She didn't know where she stood with him, whether they were even together or not, their last kiss as cryptic as a cabalistic symbol. Had it heralded a once upon a time or the end of their story? She wasn't sure, and she wasn't sure whether she wanted to be sure either. He seemed to be hiding something from her, but what it was, again she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

With a heavy sigh, Clara threw herself down onto her four-poster bed, dumping the ice-cream and wine down on an bedside cabinet made of rowan wood, nearly knocking over a pile of Betty Neels, before reaching for the remote control, only to freeze as a sonorous voice intoned an incantation from the depths of her antique armoire. Not being in the habit of taking her work home with her, Clara picked up the wine bottle, steeling herself for the storm ahead. Brandishing it like a club, she approached the armoire on raised tip-toe, her heart hammering in her chest.

Before she could react, the doors flew open, only for Flynn to step out between them, leading a goat wearing a gold crown. Clara just stared at them, too stunned to say anything. She'd been expecting a horned being of an entirely different variety, not Flynn and a farm-yard animal. Her knees trembled beneath her, but she resolutely stood her ground, striking an incongruously regal figure in her teapot patterned pyjamas.

"Talk about delusions of grandeur," the goat observed, eying the four-poster bed with disdain.

Flynn cleared his throat theatrically. "What are you doing with that wine bottle, Hartley?" he asked nervously, ignoring the goat.

"What are you doing in my wardrobe?" Clara countered, lowering the wine bottle.

"Archimedes here was kidnapped from his kingdom, but I rescued him - as I do," Flynn explained, pluming himself on his heroics, "so I thought I'd make a short stop-over here - as I don't usually do."

"I'm honoured," Clara snapped, setting the bottle down.

"You should be," Flynn said, snapping his cuff buttons shut.

Clara folded her arms across her chest, not sure whether to kiss or kill him.

"I need you to goat-sit," Flynn announced abruptly, startling her.

"I'm not allowed pets in this apartment," Clara protested, seeing her evening of slobbing out in front of her cinema-sized television disappearing down the drain.

"A _Merlin_ marathon?" Flynn asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I thought you couldn't read my mind unless I thought about cupboards," Clara reminded him.

"I'm reading your box-sets, not your brain."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Well, like I said, I'm not allowed pets in this apartment," Clara reiterated, glancing at the goat.

"Hey, I'm not a pet, I'm a _personage_ ," the goat said, narrowing his gold-rimmed eyes at Clara.

"And I'm a postage stamp," Flynn declaimed, puffing his chest out.

"Aren't you supposed to be finding the Library?" Clara asked Flynn, ignoring Archimedes.

"I... I was following a lead when I suddenly got side-tracked," Flynn said, suddenly looking shifty.

"Was that lead the same shade as a Dianthus barbatus by any chance?" Clara hazarded, gesturing to the goat's hot pink harness.

"I think I shall flee now," Flynn said hastily, making for the armoire. Before Clara could stop him, he was gone. Feeling a muscle tick in her temple, Clara turned to face Archimedes, the silence suddenly very loud.

"Well..." Clara began, clasping her hands together, "I'm Clara. Hi, hello, howdy."

"Salutations sister," the goat said, looking at her like she was something nasty on his hoof.

"So you're a talking goat, then?" Clara continued, trying to make conversation.

"Obviously," the goat said witheringly. "I also do a little predicting of the future on the side. I'm not your average augury."

"Obviously," Clara said equally as witheringly.

Silence.

"So if I go out, you're not going to chew my carpets, then?" Clara laughed nervously, her joke falling flat.

"Just leave me in the VIP lounge, Bunty," the goat said, shrugging a hairy shoulder.

"I don't do clubbing," Clara said, slightly taken aback.

"Then, what do you do?"

"Uh, I like to read back-copies of _Coopers of Stortford_ mail order catalogues," Clara admitted unwillingly. "Sue and Daphne are delightful."

There was another silence.

"So how do you know the bi-ped formerly known as Flynn?" Archimedes asked, examining his hoof with casual interest.

"He's my boss," Clara said, shutting the wardrobe doors, condemning Flynn to the darkest depths of Hades's realm.

"Flynn fancies you," the goat said flippantly, throwing himself down onto the four-poster bed.

"Everybody fancies me," Clara said without arrogance. "Their heads unfortunately get turned by my pretty face, and that's how the trouble starts."

"You talking about the trouble between you and the Flynn?" Archimedes observed acutely. "I thought I detected a little tension between the two of you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Clara said primly.

"After many trials and tribulations, the two of you will have ten children together and live happily ever after in Honolulu," the goat said, staring impressively off into the distance, as though he was looking out at some far shore only he could see.

"How many predictions of yours have actually been accurate, Archie?" Clara asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

"Many, mademoiselle."

"Prove it," Clara said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Come back to me in twenty years time, and I'll prove it then," Archimedes said evasively.

"Yeah, I'll hold you to that," Clara said, rolling her eyes.


	3. Poison Prince

**Poison Prince**

"Why on earth have you got a goat?" Eve asked, folding her arms across her chest. "Is it the latest must have fashion accessory by any chance?"

Clara hesitated, not wanting everyone to know that Flynn had dropped by her bedroom vis-a-vis her antique armoire, some misplaced sense of modesty stopping her from sharing this particular revelation. "I'm goat-sitting," Clara said cryptically, shifting from one patent leather brogued foot to the other.

"And you're insulting me!" Archie exclaimed. "Goat-sitting, my ass!"

Eve did a spectacular double-take. "It talks!?" she said in disbelief.

"And so does my flying Cadillac," the goat said, rolling his now kohl-rimmed eyes.

"You have a flying Cadillac?" Clara asked, impressed against her will.

"Yeah, in my dreams, Bunty," Archie answered, rolling his eyes again.

"What's this about Cadillacs?" Ezekiel asked, appearing in the doorway like magic. "Are we going to steal some?" He rubbed his hands together with glee at the prospect.

"No. We. Are. Not," Eve said, glaring at him.

"Never say never," Ezekiel said, shrugging his shoulder.

"Why is there a horned being in our midst?" Jenkins asked as he came down the sweeping staircase.

"And why is there a knight" -

\- "And good- _night_ to you, too," Jenkins snapped, cutting across Archie.

"It talks!" Ezekiel exclaimed, pointing at the goat.

"I do indeed," Archie said tartly.

"You do!?" Ezekiel said excitedly.

"Oh, get with the programme, boy," Archie retorted. "Talking goat was _so_ two minutes ago."

Before Ezekiel could answer, Jacob boomeranged out from behind some bookshelves, Cassandra trailing timidly at his heels. "Look lively troops!" Jacob boomed, clapping his hands together. "Are we savin' the world or what!?"

"Hold your horses, Stone," Eve intoned. "The day's barely begun and we've got a hell-demon to deal with."

"Well, there's no time like the present, is there?" Jacob said, before suddenly doing a back-flip.

"Now that's what I call a man," Archie said admiringly as the others stared at Jacob, slightly startled by his acrobatics.

"That goat is talking," Cassandra said in a loud aside.

"Three minutes ago," Archie sing-songed.

"You seem awfully... _perky_ this morning, Jacob," Clara said slowly, her brow furrowing.

"A sorceress spiked his coffee," Cassandra piped up helpfully.

"Circe actually," Jacob said, puffing out his chest. It took Clara a moment to recollect there had been a situation a few weeks back regarding a Circe and some seaweed with a tendency to strangle the nearest human. The case had erred on the side of bizarre, making Clara initially doubt the judgement of the clippings book, but that was until she'd dealt with a disco-dancing goldfish, possessed piano and a waltzing Matilda in quick succession. But she hadn't realized until later that it had been _the_ Circe, enchantress extraordinaire. The sorceress had taken a shine to Jacob, a shine he hadn't returned, resulting in him being almost dropped headfirst down a mine-shaft.

"I take it you haven't been returning her calls, then?" Archie asked.

"Hey, you can talk!" Jacob beamed. "And no I haven't. Straight to voicemail."

"Five minutes ago," Archie trilled, "and that _is_ a _bad_ idea, buddy," he warned, suddenly switching mood, making everyone look at him. "Not unless you want horns sprouting out of your forehead."

"You speaking from personal experience by any chance?" Ezekiel said, gesturing to Archie's forehead.

"It's a small world, isn't it?" Archie answered, almost but not quite evading the question.

"These days Circe is more in the line of turning her suitors into swine than bovids," Jenkins pointed out.

"I think Jacob could carry off a curly tail," Ezekiel said with a smirk.

"With aplomb," Jenkins said nastily.

"If you've got it, then flaunt it!" Jacob declared, before suddenly ripping open his shirt in a manner reminiscent of the Incredible Hulk, bursting all his buttons, everyone diving for cover as they pinged through the air like bullets.

"Alright, that is _enough!_ " Eve bellowed, striding over to where a red velvet cloth concealed what she thought was one of Jenkins's inventions from view. She grabbed a corner of the cloth, thinking it would serve to cover Jacob, yanking it forwards, only to reveal a towering statue of Flynn, with Clara simpering by his side, literally Little and Large, Eve standing apart, armed with muscles no mortal could possess, Ezekiel and the others prostrating themselves at Flynn's feet, whilst Jenkins flew overhead in the guise of a winged cherub.

"What in the name of all that is holy _is that?_ " Cassandra breathed, circling the statue, studying it from all sides.

"Flynn's Final Revenge," Ezekiel said smartly, sitting down on the edge of the aforementioned Flynn's desk, ignoring its squawks of protest.

"His what?" Eve asked, covering up Jacob with the red velvet cloth.

"The statue, it's called Flynn's Final Revenge," Ezekiel explained impatiently.

"And its purpose is?" Jenkins hazarded, eying his cherub self with approbation.

"To strike fear in the heart of his enemies."

"Did you make that monstrosity?" Clara asked, folding her arms across her chest. If so, Ezekiel had changed her nose from snub to snout, much to her chagrin.

"Guilty as charged," Ezekiel smirked again.

"Is that why you've immortalized yourself as a grovelling sycophant?" Jenkins pretended to query.

"It's more like the noble hero acknowledging his inspiration," Ezekiel said peevishly.

Clara rolled her eyes before going over and steering Jacob up the sweeping staircase, Cassandra trailing in their wake like a lost soul. The sound of an almost comical clip-clopping filled the air, making Clara glance over her shoulder, only to see Archie following them, taking the steps at a skip, hop and a jump. She exchanged an amused glance with Cassandra, the pair sharing a rare moment of fleeting solidarity, only for Clara to quickly look away, the memory of Cassandra's betrayal dividing them like Damocles's sword.

"Oh, ma lil uptown girl," Jacob suddenly leered at Clara, his Southern accent thickening to the point of incomprehensibility, "God, how I _lurve_ ya."

"You no more love me than you do Jenkins's hairy left nostril," Clara said coldly.

"I pluck and trim industriously!" Jenkins called up to them, insulted.

"Never mind the nerd," Jacob slurred, flapping his hand dismissively, "I lurve ya more than the moon an' stars" - He suddenly fell silent, Archie lowering his hoof from the back of Jacob's head, looking as if he'd just flipped some secret switch to turn Jacob off. Cassandra clapped nervously, only to fall silent at the look Clara gave her, her hands dropping to her sides.

"Sometimes you can have too much of a good thing," Archie said cryptically.

"You can say that again," Clara said, sitting down on the top step.

"Sometimes you can have" -

\- "Don't," Clara warned, holding up her hand, halting him.

"Hail Caesar," Archie acknowledged acerbically.

 _Some kind of poison prince, with your eyes in a daze_  
 _Some kind of poison prince, your life is like a maze..._


	4. The Cabinet Of Wonder

**The Cabinet Of Wonder**

"Hey, what's with the long faces?" Ezekiel asked as he rounded the corner of Flynn's curiosity cabinet, raising an ironic eyebrow at Clara and Cassandra's matching morose visages.

"They've been trying and failing to get Hot Stuff here to take his tonic," Archie explained, examining a hoof critically.

"OK, still trying to get my head around talking goat," Ezekiel said, holding his hands up. "And by the way, Eve wants us to start tracking down that hell-demon before he kills another blonde," he said to Clara and Cassandra, making their faces fall even further.

"Why doesn't Eve act as bait?" Cassandra suggested helpfully. "I mean, she's blonde - _naturally_ blonde - and beautiful..." Her voice trailed off into the ether under the weight of Clara's withering glance.

"I didn't know Eve had a fan-club," Clara said nastily. "Did you found it?"

"You know what?" Ezekiel said suddenly, startling Clara. "This is a bitch-free zone, starting as of now." He started skipping around them, waving his arms like windmills, his face a fierce mask of concentration. "There," he announced, "all done."

"What did you just do?" Cassandra asked, confused.

"I debitched the area," Ezekiel explained.

"No, you didn't," Archie said, jerking his head at Clara. "Bunty's still here, still bitchin'."

"I think it's time we tracked down Demos," Ezekiel said hastily, edging towards the staircase.

"Not until Hot Stuff here takes that tonic," Clara declared, crossing her arms over her chest. "I risked life and limb in Reference for Magic Mike over there, so we're not moving until he takes it."

" _Nothing_ and _no-one_ can tame me," Jacob exclaimed, striking a macho pose, the red velvet cloth lying long lost by his feet.

"Anything you say, Stone, anything you say," Ezekiel said distractedly, eying the curiosity cabinet curiously.

"As much as I'm enjoying the view, can you _please_ put this shirt on?" Clara pleaded, pushing the hair out of her eyes, fighting the urge to punch Jacob in the face. She and Cassandra had just spent the last half hour chasing Jacob around the upper storey, Clara clutching one of Flynn's shirts, an imposingly patterned affair of blue-birds flying against a banana yellow backdrop, Cassandra precariously carrying a golden goblet containing a concoction counteracting Circe's spell, Jacob refusing to entertain either option. Consequently, Clara was at the end of her tether, unable to take much more of Jacob's so called high-jinks.

"Jake, please just take the antidote," Cassandra begged, brandishing the goblet at him, Jacob backing away from her like a vampire being confronted by a crucifix.

"Yeah, goddamn take it, oh inferior being of below," Archie growled, advancing on Jacob.

"Goats can growl?" Cassandra squeaked.

"Now they can!" Archie exclaimed, tossing his head back.

"Oh, evolution, how I love thee," Ezekiel murmured, edging closer to the cabinet.

"Archie, use your horns, and we'll use our hands, right?" Clara hissed, creeping up behind Jacob.

"Left!" Archie parried before leaping at Jacob like a lion.

"You'll never take me alive!" Jacob shouted as Clara and Archie took him down, Cassandra bouncing agitatedly on the balls of her feet, waiting for the right moment to force-feed Jacob the tonic.

"Famous last words," Ezekiel observed, flinging open the doors to the curiosity cabinet with a flourish, ready to receive the riches within, only for a bejewelled hand to reach out and grab him by the shirt collar, dragging him inside, his heels disappearing from sight.

" _Zeke!_ " Clara and Cassandra screamed in synchronization, Jacob completely forgotten in the fracas as they rushed towards the curiosity cabinet, only for their feet to skid to a halt as the cabinet suddenly started spinning like a dervish.

"Oh my God, it's possessed!" Cassandra cried, completely losing her head.

"More likely your Ezekiel has upset its digestion," Archie said sarcastically, circling the spinning cabinet. "Something about his shifty eyes has obviously disagreed with it."

Clara stood there, shock coursing through her veins. "Cassie, go and get Jenkins," she said quickly, forcing herself to focus. "If Flynn's been keeping cannibalistic cabinet furniture, Jenkins must be the one who cleans up its mess."

Cassandra nodded, hastily setting the goblet down on a Danish dictionary, before taking off, disappearing down the sweeping staircase at a skipping sprint, her hair streaming out behind her like a crimson banner. Clara watched her go before turning her attention back to the now still cabinet, approaching it like she would a wild animal, her heart beating like a drum in her chest. A voice in her head warned her that she was stepping out of her place, sounding suspiciously like Jenkins, but she was done with Eve queening it over her. She was done with standing in front of Judson's mirror, hoping against hope to see him again so she could ask him for his advice, so he could guide her like he had Flynn. She could do this, she _would_ do this -

"You're seriously not considering jumping in that thing, are you?" Archie said in disbelief.

"Afraid I am, Archie," Clara said shakily, biting her lip.

Archie eyed her admiringly. "You're one brave bint, Bunty," he said as Jacob wandered over, watching the cabinet with a wary eye.

"Well, it's either that or being a snivelling wreck," Clara said, shrugging her shoulders.

"That's one scary piece of sideboard," Jacob interjected, doing a theatrical shudder.

"I know," Clara said simply, before taking a running jump, diving headfirst into its undiscovered depths.

 _Sooner or later it all comes around_  
 _Hopefully then I will see_  
 _After the people and places are gone_  
 _You will come back…_


	5. By The Crown & Sword

**By The Crown & Sword**

When Clara came to, it was only to find herself lying on a mosaicked floor, the sound of the sea challenging the silence for supremacy. She sat up, pushing her tumbled brown hair back, glancing around for Ezekiel. But he was nowhere to be seen, the room resolutely empty. Fighting the panic rising in her, she staggered to her feet, frantically searching for a way out, but the room remained windowless and doorless despite the bright sunlight flooding the chamber, almost blinding her. Head spinning, she took a step sideways, only for her back to hit wall, contradicting Clara, confusing her even further. But she stayed put, the wall propping her up amidst the shifting sands of her surroundings.

Almost against her will, her gaze became drawn to the mosaicked floor, her eyes widening at what its pattern depicted, a half-finished tapestry on a loom, its design consisting of a crown and sword. She remembered reaching for the Crown; of pushing open the Library doors, memories entangled together, Clara unable to separate them. Each recollection contained crown and sword, neither able to exist without the other. But the Crown was under lock and key, Excalibur dead, buried in the black earth by Flynn with his bare hands, lying where Clara should be right now, in a cold grave, divided from life by death -

"Good morn, Guinevere," a melodious voice called out, her words ringing round the chamber like bells.

Clara whirled around, bewildered, only to be confronted by the sight of a tall, stately woman, dressed in an intricately draped ivory toga that set off her rich cocoa-coloured skin, a mocking smirk playing across her perfect lips, marring the symmetry of her beautiful face.

"Aren't you going to greet me, Gwen?" the woman asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Where's Ezekiel?" Clara demanded, her voice shaking despite herself.

The woman appraised her for a moment, before tilting her head to one side, her almond-shaped eyes suddenly changing shade, the iridescent amber evolving into a violent violet. Clara felt a jolt course through her, not painful, but jarring all the same, making her gasp in shock. The woman smiled, her eyes amber again. "There, just as I remember," she declared, clasping her hands together in oddly childish joy.

Clara's hand flew up to her hair; what had once been poker straight, was now elaborately ringletted and twisted upwards around a towering coronet, her clothes undergoing a similar evolution, the previous Spartan simplicity of her blouse and skirt now overruled by an crimson toga that clung to her curves, the blood red shade acting as an admirable foil to her dark eyes. "Where the hell is Ezekiel?" Clara reiterated, shaking from head to foot now.

"I was tempted to send him there for a spell," the woman mused, "but I realised I would miss his shifty eyes too much."

"Look, I don't know who you are, or where I am, but I just want Ezekiel back, alright?" Clara tried and failed to say reasonably. "Him being here - wherever here is," she amended hastily, "is a huge misunderstanding, and I'm sorry, so if you just hand him back, we'll be out of your rather fabulous hair. Savvy?"

The woman stared at her as if she was mad. " 'Savvy?' " she asked, confused. "You 'don't know me?' What has become of you, Gwen?" She made to touch Clara's cheek, making Clara reel back, the woman freezing, her face becoming thunderous. "Who has inflicted this perfidy upon you?" she demanded, advancing on Clara. "Who has altered your very essence? Tell me and I shall burn them!"

" _Who are you?_ " Clara whispered, fear threatening to overwhelm her. Eve had been attempting to teach them how to handle whatever crisis this world and the next flung at them, but her lessons hadn't encompassed becoming trapped in curiosity cabinets. But Eve wasn't to blame for this oversight, but rather Flynn, since he was the one keeping cannibalistic furniture on the sly.

She had noticed a lot of things were Flynn's fault, one of his errors including not putting her on the Library payroll, forcing her to wait on tables again until Jenkins had sorted it all out. Flynn had left Jacob out of the loop as well, but nobody tried to slip their hands up his skirt where he worked, so Clara had been more than put out at having to return to Hurricane Anne's Breezy Bistro. Jenkins had refused point-blank to financially support her or Jacob while he hacked his way through the ancient hyperbole that stood in his way of hiring them, stating bluntly they could stand on their own two feet, the others unable to help them, trying to sort out their own logistical nightmares.

"I am Circe, sweet one," the woman said, interrupting Clara's reverie, her extraordinary eyes becoming filled with tears. "Do you not remember me?"

Clara gaped at her, before recovering herself. "I remember hearing you tried to drop Jacob down a mine-shaft," Clara spat, the world suddenly making sense again, "and that you slipped a spell into his coffee. And you wonder why he isn't returning your calls!?"

Circe stared at her, shocked. "You know the mortal, Jacob Stone?" she said, seeming to shrink into herself.

"He's one of my friends," Clara said, crossing her arms over her chest, "and I don't take too kindly to anyone who tries to hurt them."

"He rejected my love!"

"What, does that constitute a death sentence, then!?" Clara exclaimed, fighting her surprise that Jacob, the connoisseur of female flesh, would turn down someone like Circe.

"It is the greatest folly to spurn a sorceress," Circe said coldly.

"What about freewill?" Clara challenged. "Whether you like it or not, he has the right to say no."

"He has no rights at all - no mortal does."

Clara just shook her ringletted head, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Look, I'm not interested in listening to your fascist rhetoric," Clara said disdainfully, "nor am I here to play dress-up - I'm here for Ezekiel Jones, so where the hell is he!?"

"You have changed, Guinevere," Circe said, shaking her own head. "I do not know you."

"You never did, and you never will," Clara retorted, "so where is Zeke!?"

"Come with me, your Majesty," Circe said slyly, gesturing to an archway that hadn't been there before.

 _Well, there is a reward_ _  
_ _To live and die by the sword_ _  
_ _Well, they tried to complicate you_ _  
_ _But you left it all behind_ _  
_ _All the worldly possessions_ _  
_ _Are left for recollections_ _  
_ _And finally it's all gone…_


	6. Fly-By-Flynn

**Fly-By-Flynn**

Clara slowed to a stop at the sight of Ezekiel in a giant golden birdcage suspended from the ceiling, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. It was Ezekiel, and then it wasn't, his face wrinkled almost beyond recognition, his grey beard reaching the ground, shaggy hair falling into his no longer shifty eyes. " _Oh, my God_ ," Clara breathed, turning to Circe, "what have you done to him?"

"It wasn't me but time," Circe said, spreading her hands.

"What?"

"He has spent several centuries in my company," Circe said, circling the cage. "I just couldn't bear to part with him."

"Fix him," Clara demanded, her dark eyes glittering amidst the pale landscape of her face.

"Nobody can turn back time," Circe said, "not even me."

"But he's only just got here!"

"And you arrived too late," Circe said simply.

"That's poppycock," Clara argued, stepping forwards. "I came through right after him."

Circe just smiled, before walking away, leaving Clara on her own. Where she went, Clara didn't know, for like before, there were no doorways or windows, only the sound of the sea.

"Zeke?" Clara called up, her voice cracking.

Ezekiel raised his head, his rheumy eyes kindling with faint recognition at the sound of her voice. "C-Claire?" he whispered, his voice rusty, like he really hadn't spoken for the centuries Circe had spoken of.

"It's Clara, Zeke, _Clara,_ " she said, tears springing to her eyes.

"Clara?" Ezekiel answered, his lined brow furrowing even further.

"Yes, it's me, Clara," she said urgently. "Do you remember me?"

He stared at her, the recognition fading from his face. "Who are you?" he croaked, looking confused again. "Why are you annoying me?"

"I'm not annoying you!" Clara snapped. "I'm bloody rescuing you!" To prove her point, she made a futile leap for the birdcage, only for her satin slippers to hit terra firma again.

"Rescue me from what!?" Ezekiel said incredulously.

"From - from this!" Clara cried, gesturing to his gilded prison. "From being kept in a coop for all eternity!"

"Bit late in the day for that, isn't it?" a familiar voice observed coolly behind Clara, making her whirl around, only to find herself facing Flynn.

Clara did a dramatic double-take. "What - how?" she stuttered, taking a step back.

"None of your beeswax," Flynn said pompously.

"Oh, go to hell!" Clara snapped, losing what was left of her temper.

"Been there, done that - BORING!" Flynn sing-songed.

"We - we need to get out of here," Clara said, fighting the urge to throttle him with his own cravat. "And now, like right now!"

"We need to lighten up," Flynn said lightly. "Like a lovely lightbulb!"

"Why are you here?" Clara said, whirling on him. "And how did you get here!?"

"I came in through the back door," Flynn said, looking at her like she was an imbecile. "How else? By flying Hoover?"

"Who's to say you're even you?" Clara challenged, sidestepping the question. "You might just be an illusion" -

\- "I'm no illusion, Hartley, auditory or otherwise," Flynn snapped, grabbing her wrist. "I got a babbling mess of a message from Jenkins, saying the whole place was in meltdown - that Ezekiel had been abducted by a disembodied arm, and that you'd jumped into a cabinet; with Jacob running riot through Reference in nothing but his boxer shorts, and Eve and Cassandra out trying to capture a Minotaur on the loose in lower Manhattan."

"You forgot the hell-demon," Clara said quietly, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the next.

"I was getting to that part," Flynn said, letting go of her. "But did I not mention Minotaur!?"

"You did," Circe said from behind them, making them whip around.

"Your work?" Flynn asked, raising an ironic eyebrow.

"The Minotaur is a side-line I've started recently, a little project to pass the time. However, there's been a few... hiccups," Circe paused delicately, clasping her hands behind her back. "But never mind that," Circe then smiled, tilting her head to the side. "It's been a while, Flynn. Too long for my taste."

Flynn flushed hotly and horribly.

"Don't say you did," Clara whispered, her stomach turning.

"I did," Flynn said, closing his eyes with a wince.

 _But now here you are again_ _  
_ _So let's skip the "how you been"…_


	7. One For All, And All For One

**One For All, And All For One**

They stumbled their way down the dark corridor in single file, chains jangling, Flynn leading, Clara bringing up the rear, Ezekiel shuffling inbetween them. Circe was nowhere to be seen, and neither were any guards, but everytime they tried to run, they were pushed back into place by an invisible force. Driven to desperation, Flynn tried to dash forwards, only to be suddenly shoved backwards, nearly crushing what was left of Ezekiel out of existence.

"Show yourself, minions!" he bellowed, trying and failing to shake his fist at the empty air.

"You're showing yourself up," Clara muttered, trying and failing to blow a stray curl out of her eye.

"I'm a showman, that's what I do," Flynn retorted.

"Do you leave people off the payroll as well?" Clara spat back.

"That wasn't me!" Flynn boomed over his shoulder. "That was Jenkins's idea of a joke!"

Clara did another dramatic double-take. "What!?" she squeaked.

"He admitted it to me," Flynn said, "that he'd played a prank on you and Jacob as payback."

"Payback for what!?"

"For breaking his best porcelain plate!"

"That wasn't us though!" Clara cried, casting her mind back. She, Jacob and Ezekiel had been doing some exploring in the Annex, only to stumble across Jenkins's china collection, Ezekiel getting up, close and personal with one particular specimen, only to break it.

"Then who did it!?"

"It was Ezekiel!"

"But he told Jenkins it was you and Jacob!"

"He's a lying little worm!" Clara spat, trying and failing to boot Ezekiel's backside.

"It doesn't matter now, anyways," Flynn said hastily. "You're _all_ on the payroll now. I personally made sure."

"I was barely getting by!" Clara exploded. "And Jacob was kipping on his ex's kitchen floor!"

"Your old job was still open, then?" Flynn queried politely.

"Luckily for me it was," Clara said, deciding not to mention that she'd had to go on all but bended knee to get it back. The only reason they'd kept her job open for her was because nobody else was mad enough to work for such a low wage. She had been working all hours, not just waiting tables, but everything inbetween, cooking, cleaning, whatever was asked of her, even babysitting her boss's baby daughter for a few extra dollars. The little Clara had scraped and scrimped to save up had gone on paying for her hotel room, the price cleaning her bank account out.

"Well, it all worked out in the end" -

\- "So says you," Clara said, rolling her eyes.

"You have a lovely luxury apartment now," Flynn pointed out.

"You try coming home to an empty bed night after night," Clara pointed out in return.

"I have tried that, actually," Flynn flared up, "and this is not the time to be talking about our tangled love-lives."

"What about our trust issues instead?" Clara snapped.

"Or is it more your trust issues?" Flynn said astutely, stumbling on.

"I don't trust Cassie," Clara said abruptly, "and I can't, not after what she did, anyways."

"What about Stone?"

"Jake's caught somewhere in the middle," Clara said tiredly. "He and Cassie do a lot of fieldwork together, going out and researching and stuff and things, but he still doesn't trust her even if he personally likes her. Ezekiel, however, is her biggest fan, but hey, that's no surprise, because he roots for the bad guy doesn't he, being one himself."

"Cassandra isn't bad," Flynn said quietly, "she just got a little... lost that's all."

"Only to end up on "Let's Get Clara Stabbed Street'," Clara spat. "She's got a nice sense of direction."

"If you've got a problem with Cassandra, you need to sit down and talk about it," Flynn said, his shackles chafing him in earnest now, "or even better, go and discuss it with Eve and Jenkins. They're meant to be your mentors after all."

Clara just scoffed at this, Flynn resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Becoming a Librarian took time, and it would all come together in the end, if Clara would just co-operate, instead of rebelling against the rules at every turn, trying to do Eve's job for her. But then again, he sensed uneasily her defiance stemmed from the storm within her; that shades of Guinevere could be found in her folly.

"Oh, look what the cat dragged in," Jenkins said dourly, startling them to a stop, even Ezekiel. "The Three Musketeers."

"And you are here because?" Flynn flung back, raising an eyebrow at Jenkins's choice of attire, being clad in nothing but a loin-cloth.

"Because of Bunty," Archie said from somewhere out sight.

"Archimedes?" Flynn said, glancing around him for the unseen goat.

"Above you, buffoon," Archie instructed.

Flynn looked upwards, Clara doing the same, only to see the goat peering through a grating at them, imprisoned somewhere in the ceiling. "Bonjour," Flynn said formally, inclining his head.

"This is not the time to use the language of love, my crazy Carsen," Archie said acerbically. "We need to perform some Jailhouse Rock."

"If we can get in, we can get out," Clara said quickly, trying and failing to formulate a fantastic plan.

"We came in through the back door," Jenkins said, "only for Circe to stumble across us in her private privy."

"And that was so not the time to take a bubble-bath," Flynn admonished Archie, who hung his horned head in shame.

"Did you use the back door as well?" Jenkins asked, adjusting his loin-cloth to a more modest angle.

"Yup," Flynn said. "Guilty as charged."

"So what do we do?" Clara asked. "If this back door isn't a viable option, what's our next move?"

"I don't know," Jenkins said, pulling at his chains. "These manacles are magical; I can't just use a hairpin to pick the lock."

"So we're screwed," Ezekiel croaked, startling them all.

"Well, at least you got Shifty Eyes back," Archie said from above. "That's a plus - I think."

"What about Stone?" Flynn asked urgently, ignoring Archie.

"He's probably still running wild and free in Reference," Jenkins said, his nostrils flaring with disdain at Jacob desecrating the Annex so.

"Next stop, nudist's colony," Archie sing-songed.

"Eve and Cassandra are MIA," Jenkins continued, ignoring Archie also. "Last I heard, they were cornered in a cornershop."

"I hate that Minotaur," Archie said pettishly, "he's always stealing my thunder - literally. That's why Zeus flung him out our flatshare."

"And we _really_ need to escape," Clara reminded him, "instead of standing around, gossiping about gods."

"We're only here because you decided to fling yourself headfirst into a curiosity cabinet," Jenkins reminded Clara in turn. "And nice perm by the way," he added, jerking his head at her curly head, "you look like you stuck your finger in a socket."

"And you look like you're wearing a nappy," Clara said, deliberately attacking Jenkins's dignity.

"We're co-ordinating actually," Jacob said from behind them, making their heads jerk up, only to see him standing there in his boxer shorts, clutching a sparkly fairy wand of all things.

"Oh, God, not the wand," Flynn said, backing away.

"Please God, no," Jenkins said, falling to his knees, Flynn following suit.

"What's with the wand?" Clara said, bewildered.

Archie just shook his head, as in the dark as her.

"I found it down the back of a sofa," Jacob explained, eying it reverently.

"Just put it down, Stone," Jenkins said gently. "You don't need to do this."

"He's right," Flynn said just as gently, "you don't."

"I will the wave the wand," Jacob said in a monotone, and before anybody could stop him, he waved it.

 _Flashing lights and we, took a wrong turn and we_  
 _Fell down the rabbit hole…_


	8. Pretty In Pink

**Pretty In Pink**

 _The one who insists he was first in the line_  
 _Is the last to remember her name_  
 _He's walking around in this dress that she wore_  
 _She is gone but the joke's the same_ …

Clara sat up, her vision obscured by sparkles, glitter dancing like diamonds in front of her eyes. Beside her, Flynn whimpered like a wounded animal, Jenkins curled up into a ball, his arms wrapped around his head. Jacob just stood there, stunned, still clutching the wand, Ezekiel echoing him, even down to holding an imaginary wand. Only Archie showed the slightest sign of animation, kicking his heels for joy, scampering around the Annex, upsetting a table or twenty. To Clara's confusion, everyone seemed to exist in varying shades of pink.

In a daze, Clara stood up, only to be confronted by her exceedingly pink reflection. For a moment, she thought she glimpsed Judson doubled up with laughter, and then he was gone, leaving her alone with her unrecognizable appearance. She stood there, speechless, unable to comprehend her candyfloss coloured curls. Her toga had been turned the brightest shade of pink possible, somewhere between Barbie and even more Barbie. Even her teeth were pink, much to her horror.

"What the hell did you just do, Jacob?" she whispered, turning to him.

"It wasn't him, it was the wand," Jenkins almost wept. "It made him do it."

"How did the wand make him do it?" Clara asked, amazed to find herself so calm.

"Once upon a time, an infant fairy got hold of a toy wand," Flynn said pompously as Jenkins finally broke down into tears, "and imbued it with its magic. I managed to get a hold of it before anymore damage could be done, but not without becoming an ambassador for the colour pink. It's one of the more... _unusual_ side-effects of its powers."

"That doesn't answer my question," Clara said, still calm, still amazed at being calm.

"The wand sort of takes over whoever touches it," Flynn explained, raising his voice above Jenkins's sobs, "granting your wishes whilst granting its own. That particular fairy had a huge thing for the colour pink, desiring the entire world and everything within it to be pretty in pink, so the wand absorbed this wish, imbuing all subsequent wishes with this wish, and so when Jacob wished us free, he was wishing us pink at the same time."

Clara digested this piece of insanity in silence. "How can one little fairy cause so much damage?" she said, beginning to crack now.

"They're not cute little babies, Clara," Flynn flared up, "they have fangs that can rip your throat out at ten paces."

"Will this wear off?" Clara demanded, gesturing to her pink curls.

Flynn just shrugged his shoulders. He himself was working a hot pink suit fresh from Savile Row, his hair now pale pink and pomaded back. Jenkins's silver hair was streaked with magenta, making him look like a particularly flamboyant skunk, his loin-cloth now studded with glittery pink stars. Jacob's stubble was stained pink, his hair flecked with pink highlights, his boxers bright pink to match, but compared to Ezekiel, he'd gotten off lightly. Still sporting his floor-length beard, it was now just as pink as Jacob's boxers, matching his bushy eyebrows. Even his eyes were pink, giving him the odd lashless look of a rabbit.

"This is the best thing that's ever happened to me!" Archie crowed, still kicking his heels. He was pink all over, down to his hooves, his horns emblazoned with hot pink lovehearts.

"Well, at least someone's happy," Ezekiel croaked, as old as ever.

"This can't be happening," Clara muttered, now pacing the floor, trailing her toga behind her.

"It is," Flynn said, getting to his feet, "and the fun's only just beginning."

"Circe has something up her sleeve," Archie said, tossing his head back. "She's all... skittish."

"Wouldn't you be if all your exes turned up at once on your doorstep?" Flynn pointed out, wishing Jenkins would stop weeping.

"Hey, Jenkins got off lightly by only getting some lightning fired at him," Archie said acerbically. "She turned me into a goddamn goat for dumping her."

"She turned me into a bottle of milk," Flynn said nostalgically. "Judson nearly drank me, but Charlene stopping him just as he was about to unscrew my lid."

"She put me in a giant bird-cage," Ezekiel rasped, "and that was just for blinking."

"She keeps trying to kill me," Jacob said wearily, before turning a somersault. "I think she's trying to tell me something," he said, frowning, before doing a back-flip this time.

"You okay, Stone?" Flynn asked, his brow furrowing.

"Circe slipped something in his coffee," Clara explained, trying and failing to tear the tiara from her curls.

"Circe seems to have her finger in a lot of pies," Flynn said, his brow furrowing even further.

"She said she knew me," Clara said, making Flynn stiffen. "She kept calling me Guinevere."

"That's just her sense of humour," Flynn said hastily, not wanting to wander down that particular avenue. "What I'm saying is, Circe doesn't like spreading herself thin, usually she has someone to help her do the heavy lifting" -

\- "Not when I knew her," Archie said incredulously. "Apart from calling in a few favours from the gods now and again, she liked to work alone. Circe does not like sharing the spotlight, oh Flynn of my femur."

"But her age is catching up with her now," Flynn pointed out. "Nowadays, she needs a little back-up."

'Serpent Brotherhood?" Clara suggested, passing Jenkins a tissue.

"Probably," Flynn said, shrugging his shoulder.

"Where am I?" Ezekiel suddenly rasped, startling them all. "Where did I put my walking stick? I want to hit your heads with it!"

"He has moments of clarity, but other than that, he's completely cuckoo," Clara explained, as Ezekiel started searching for his imaginary walking stick, Jacob joining him, the pair peering under tables and inside Wellington boots.

"Never mind them," Flynn said flippantly, flapping his hand. "We have to sort out Circe."

"Not like this," Clara said in disbelief, gesturing to herself.

"We can't wait until the spell wears off," Flynn said, "if it even does."

Clara just stared at him.

"First things first," Archie interjected, "we need to get that wand off Hot Stuff."

"I'll deal with that," Flynn said smoothly, "you lot deal with that Minotaur."

At this, Jenkins got to his bare feet, blowing his nose loud and long, sounding rather like he making a trumpet solo. "We need to use the back door," he said, casting his tissue into the wastepaper bin, ignoring its shriek. "It'll take you to where Eve and Cassandra are. From then on, you're on your own."

"No, no, no," Clara said, marching up to him. "You're not throwing us to the lions like that."

"I'm throwing you to the Minotaur actually," Jenkins said jovially, looking as if he was enjoying the prospect.

"Same difference," Clara retorted, "and I know about your little payroll parlour trick as well."

Jenkins quailed a little at that, his conscience giving a treacherous twinge. He'd suspected Ezekiel had been lying, but he hadn't bothered to push it, accepting Ezekiel's explanation at face value, since it suited him to stir up some trouble for Jacob and Clara, disliking them a little bit more above the others. "Are you threatening me?" he said, standing his ground.

"No, I think you've suffered enough," Clara said grimly, gesturing to his roadkill hair. "Show us the back door."


	9. Two Birds, One Stone

**Two Birds, One Stone**

 _Before_

 _All it took was one trip, and Clara was out of the game, stumbling over her own feet, taken out by her own toes. Jacob was next, landing in the pile of cardboard boxes beside her, except his demise was not of his own doing. All that remained was Cassandra and Ezekiel, the former crouching down behind some crates, the latter shrouding himself in shadow, his gaze falling upon the distant exit sign. At the sight of it, Ezekiel's face lit up, and before Cassandra could blink, he was gone, throwing her to the lions._

 _But as he bailed, he too was trounced, flung to the floor, the thud of his body making Cassandra's jaw drop dramatically. She was the last sprig of hope, the only one left to save the world. She could do this, she_ would _do this. But as she sat there, imagination aflame with visions of her being wreathed and feted, she heard the click of coming doom, hell in high heels crossing the floor towards her. Panicking, Cassandra scuttled forwards, only to freeze at the feet of her foe. Eve threw back her hood, before folding her arms across her chest, rolling her eyes as Cassandra tried to get up, only to smack her head off the shelf above her._

 _"Typical, just typical," Eve muttered, exhaling sharply. Later on, outside, as they all made their way back to the Annex, Eve began her usual lecture, Clara and Jacob exchanging their usual eye-rolls. "It took me two minutes to disable you two," she began, gesturing impatiently at Ezekiel and Jacob, "whilst Cassandra was flattened by a piece of flatpack furniture. As for you, Clara, I don't even know where to begin" -_

 _\- "Then don't," Clara muttered, walking on ahead._

 _"You've got an IQ of 290," Eve argued, "yet you can't even walk in a straight line without almost breaking your neck."_

 _"Sue me then!" Clara flung over her shoulder. "See you in court!"_

 _"Huh, you don't need to tell me you're every lawyer's dream," Eve flung back, "a compensation cash-cow ready to milked" -_

 _\- "What an alluring analogy," Ezekiel said thoughtfully, making Eve glare at him._

 _"You bailed on your team," she pointed out to him._

 _"These are the hands of a world class thief," Ezekiel pointed out in return, showing her his palms, "I don't do punching."_

 _"Like me," Jacob interjected, puffing out his chest._

 _"You can't solve everything with brute force," Eve said tiredly, "you need to fight smarter, not harder."_

 _"Well, I'm only here to do science and math, maybe occasionally hallucinate," Cassandra said firmly. "I'm definitely not here to do battle with bookcases."_

* * *

"This is all Eve's fault," Jenkins said pettishly, wringing his hands. "She's supposed to be training you for this kind of thing, yet look what's happened! We're practically paralysed by pink, crippled by shame and humiliation!"

"She _is_ training us," Clara said impatiently, "everything just goes... a little pear-shaped now and again."

"Pear-shaped?" Jenkins exclaimed in disbelief. "You've a bit past that stage! I'd say you've evolved into avocados by now!"

"Anyone fancy an apple?" Flynn said flippantly, brandishing a Belle de Boskoop **.**

"That'll be you by the time this mess is sorted out," Jenkins said to Clara, "mark my words, you'll be a mere Malus pumila with a bad perm" -

\- "We've done the drills," Jacob interjected, striking a super-hero pose, wielding the wand like a sword, "and now we're playin' with the big boys."

"I thought you were supposed to be removing that wand from his possession," Jenkins said acerbically to Flynn, as Ezekiel stumbled around the Annex, walloping various inanimate objects with his walking stick.

"And you're supposed to be showing us this back door, sunshine," Archie said just as acerbically to Jenkins.

Jenkins pursed his lips priggishly, before turning on his bare heel and leaving, the others trailing after him like lost souls. He knew he was being harsh, and that he was being more unfair on Eve than anything else. She'd dropped the practise drills at his suggestion, making them learn on the job instead, wearing herself out watching their backs. She'd told Jenkins bluntly that the four of them were nowhere ready for the front-line, and he'd all but encouraged her to throw them to the wolves, that there was no another way for them to learn, _Librarians exist to keep magic out of the wrong hands; their job is to be in harm's way._

Jenkins was always jumping ship and sides, and now he was being punished for it. And what a punishment it was, his dignity torn from him, inflicting his medieval middle-aged spread on an innocent and unsuspecting world. He couldn't even put on a coat to counter it, since it would disappear the second the fabric touched his skin. But as he led the way past the clippings book, Clara slowed to a stop, her eye and attention caught, momentarily distracting her. The rest stumbled to a halt behind her, crashing into one another, Ezekiel now attempting to climb a bookcase like it was Everest.

"What is this?" Clara called over to Jenkins, making him turn around. He came over, brow furrowing as he cast his eye over the various clippings, names jumping out at him, names that meant nothing, Henry Birch, yadayadayada.

"Nothing," he said abruptly, turning away.

"Nothing?" Clara echoed in disbelief. "Eight people are missing, probably dead, and that's nothing!?"

"It's nothing to do with us," Jenkins reiterated, "we have our hands full as it is."

"Henry Birch, 21, on a full scholarship in Chemical Engineering at Boston University," Flynn read over his shoulder, "he went missing two days ago." He glanced at Clara, something passing between them. "He might still be alive," he said to her in an undertone, "he could still be saved."

"Then let's save him," Jacob said, tossing his head back, taking the words right out of Clara's mouth.

"Hold your horses," Jenkins began -

\- "And your goats," Archimedes interjected.

"We have a Minotaur to deal with," Jenkins snapped, "and a lot of pink as well, not to mention a hell-demon and Circe. I think that's enough to be getting on with" -

\- "Surely we can kill two birds with one stone?" Flynn said with a shrug of his shoulder.

"Think again, Flynn," Jacob said dangerously, flexing his muscles.

Flynn rolled his eyes. "Maybe the Minotaur has something to do with these missing people," he said impatiently, as though addressing imbeciles, "since people tend to go missing around the Minotaur. I mean, you shared an apartment with him, Archie," he said, turning to the goat, "surely some of the neighbours disappeared after coming round to borrow some sugar?"

"Umm," Archie said shiftily, "we did misplace a few mail-men. Plus the chick down the hall did a disappearing act, though it turned out she turned herself into a tree. Zeus was a bit keen on her and she wasn't keen on the idea of him being keen, so she went a little ligneous."

"Well, there you go," Flynn said with a flourish of his hand, "problem solved."

"Where is this back door you keep banging on about?" Clara said, turning to Jenkins, feeling like her head was about to do a Fourth of July.

"This way," Jenkins said dourly.

* * *

"This is the broom closet," Clara said, folding her arms across her chest.

"No, it is the door behind which presently exists," Jenkins corrected her, confusing Clara even further.

"Let's go to Cornwall," Ezekiel said randomly, elbowing Jacob in the side.

"I have a better idea," Jacob said, his face lighting up, "let's go surfing!"

"I'll be using that buff body of yours as a board," Archimedes said archly, waggling his bushy brows.

"And anyhoo," Flynn said, stepping forwards, "magic exists in similarities, symbolic resonance, like a voodoo doll is symbolic of a person, and led can be transformed into gold because it's already" -

\- "Quit gassin'," Jacob said, barging him aside. "We wanna hit those waves, man!"

Flynn barged him back, making Jacob stagger, Flynn swiftly snatching the wand from his fingers as he did, before tapping the broom closet with its tip, turning it hot pink, the sight almost scorching the surface of Clara's eyeballs.

"Is nothing sacred anymore!?" Jenkins bellowed, clutching the roots of his racoon hair.

"So with a little magic," Flynn said, taking a step back, ignoring Jenkins's outburst, "that broom closet door can become a symbolic representation of any other door."

"Okay, Existentialist Eric," Clara said, finally reaching the end of her tether, "where the hell are we heading then!?"

"Boston," Flynn said simply, looking at her as though she was mad, "the missing where all interns at Golden Axe Foods."

Clara didn't even want to know what that was. "And how do you know this?" she said, contradicting herself.

Flynn just shrugged his shoulders, infuriating her.

"The Minotaur is in Manhattan!" she bellowed, stomping her satin covered foot. "As in Kansas!"

"Keep your red slippers on, Dorothy," Archimedes said, frowning. "I'm sure this tornado will take us there."

"But where though!?" Clara exclaimed, unaware of Ezekiel creeping up behind her with his walking stick.

"Golden Axe Foods exists under different subsidiaries and Shell companies and the like," Flynn said, dragging her out of danger's way, "based in umpteen different states, Manhattan and more. If Circe is behind this, she really will be spreading herself thin, which makes me think she has back-up."

"The Serpent Brotherhood?" Jenkins suggested sarcastically, echoing Clara's earlier observation.

"Possibly," Flynn said, shrugging his shoulder again. "We won't know unless we go."

"Go where though!?" Clara cried, near tears now.

"Wherever the wind takes us," Flynn said distantly, "wherever, whenever, even over the rainbow" -

And with that, Clara shoved him through the door.

 _Thereover, hereunder_ _  
_ _You'll never have to wonder_ _  
_ _We can always play by ear_ _  
_ _But that's the deal my dear…_


	10. For The Relief Of Indigent Racoons

**For The Relief Of Indigent Racoons**

Flynn waltzed into the foyer of Golden Axe Food's headquarters, an imposing skyscraper that made Clara dizzy just by looking at it, the others trailing at his heels, Ezekiel brandishing his walking stick at various passing businessmen. Much to Clara's chagrin, they'd ended up in Boston, missing Manhattan by miles. But Flynn was convinced the answer to their problems could be found here, that the solution to saving everyone was right in front of them. He seemed to have completely forgotten about Eve and Cassandra, and everytime Clara tried to remind him, he silenced her with his hand.

"Hello, fair maiden," he trilled, pirouetting over to the reception desk, making the woman staffing it do a double-take. "How are you this fine morn?"

"The circus left town two months ago, sweetheart," the woman snapped, discreetly signalling for security.

"We're collecting for charity," Flynn said abruptly, dropping all feudal formalities, "for racoons to be precise," he hastily added, glancing at Jenkins's streaked hair.

To her surprise, Clara suddenly had a collecting can in her hands, the others armed with the same. As she glanced up at Flynn's broad back, she realised how little she knew him really, but despite this, she was glad he was here. If they were going down, she would rather he was by her side when the ship sank.

Her eye suddenly caught Jenkins's, making her feel an unexpected pang of pity for him. Flynn had forced him to come along on another trip to The Twilight Zone, and Jenkins genuinely looked like he was suffering for his sins, completely torn out of his comfort zone. For all his faults, he _had_ helped her on occasion, even following her into a curiosity cabinet, and the recollection prompted Clara to offer him a shaky smile, Jenkins regarding the gesture suspiciously, before inclining his head almost imperceptively in return.

"What's the name of your er... _charity?_ " the woman was asking, eyes narrowing as she eyed the ID now hanging around Flynn's neck on a lanyard.

"Any one you like," Flynn beamed, rattling his collecting can like a maraca.

"I thought the circus had left," a confused voice said from behind them, making Clara turn around, only to be confronted by a combination of unnaturally white teeth and even more unnatural blonde hair, teamed with an astronomically expensive looking designer suit and heels that made Clara salivate at first sight. "It took several depositions to get you lot moved on," the woman then said, striding forwards, shooing them with her hands, "so mosey. You're bringing the value of the place down with your very presence." But as she did, she froze at the sight of Archie, her eyes widening with almost shock, and not just the average shock at seeing a glittery pink goat, but something else altogether. Then she recovered herself, folding her arms across her chest, her face changing, forcing itself into a welcoming expression. "How can I help you?" she said to Clara, startling her.

"I" -

\- "We're collecting for charity," Flynn said, cutting across Clara, "volunteering our limited life-spans for the sake of a good cause. Savvy?"

The woman studied Flynn and the others for a moment, raising her eyebrows as Jacob flexed his muscles threateningly, Ezekiel squatting like a sumo wrestler, Jenkins shifting uncomfortably on the spot under her scrutiny, her gaze dwelling on Archie the longest. But just as she opened her mouth to say something, a young blonde woman suddenly appeared out of nowhere, her pretty face anxious, a phone clamped to her ear. "Miss. Willis," she stage-whispered worriedly, "the Tokyo office is on the line" -

\- "Not now, Jenny," Miss. Willis said from between gritted teeth, her gaze still fixed rigidly on Archie.

Jenny retreated behind the reception desk, shooting Clara and the others curious looks, blushing becomingly when Jacob fired one of his famous smiles in her direction. Jenkins elbowed him in the side, making Jacob mumble and mutter, but thankfully ending his flirting. Miss. Willis finally tore her gaze away from Archie, snapping her fingers together, signalling for a Franklin, the pompous pace of his footsteps announcing his arrival before he arrived.

"How can I help you, Karen?" he said, sounding bored, consulting his clipboard.

"I need HR to process these people," she said, eying them oddly, "take them down." And with that, she was gone, disappearing through a set of elevator doors.

"Wait," Clara said, almost sprinting to keep up as the others took off after Franklin, following him like hounds to the hunt, "why do we need to be processed?"

"Where's your paperwork, princess?" Franklin said, glancing over his shoulder at her. "Your contracts and agreements? You can't just waltz in here like a Disney film."

"We're collecting for charity," Jenkins said clippedly, "not signing a business deal."

"You didn't even bother to phone ahead," Franklin said just as clippedly, turning into a corridor.

"The lines were down," Flynn said, grabbing Ezekiel's arm, stopping him just in time from knocking over a vase.

"Ming," Jacob said knowledgeably, circling the stand.

"Mine!" Ezekiel chimed in, lunging at it, trying to knock it over again.

"Lay one finger on it, Father Time, and you're history," Franklin threatened, whirling on them, "and if your horned friend so much thinks about defecating on my darling floor," he continued, his gaze falling upon Archie, "his head will be mounted on the wall of my office before you can even blink."

"And your fingers will look most fetching on my dinner plate," Flynn said with a strange smile, his tone taking on Hannibal Lector tones.

Franklin just stared at him, startled despite himself, before resuming leading the way to Human Resources.

"Everyone's staring at us," Clara hissed under her breath to Flynn as they followed Franklin, "as in like we have three heads staring."

"They've been staring at us ever since we first set foot in this place," Jenkins reminded her irritably.

"Phooey," Flynn said dismissively, taking Clara's hand, knotting his fingers through hers, "let them stare. You can't buy this hotness."


	11. The CEO Who Spurned Me

**The CEO Who Spurned Me**

"Umm, why would the HR department be down in the basement?" Clara asked nervously as the lift shuddered to its final stop. Franklin had escorted them to the elevator, pressing the button for them, before ushering them inside, walking away without a backward glance.

"Because I abandoned Karen Willis at the altar several centuries ago," Archie said gloomily, startling them all.

"What!?" Flynn exclaimed, doing a double-take. "And you chose to deliver this blow now!?"

"I didn't recognize her at first," Archie protested, "she's taken too many trips to the Fountain of Youth."

"Then how do you know it's your former betrothed?" Jenkins said impatiently. "It might be some other CEO you spurned."

"It's the way she looked at me," Archie explained, "like she'd like to send me on a holiday to hell for a few millennia, to top up my tan you know."

"Where you a goat when this happened?" Clara asked hesitantly, secretly wondering why the lift doors weren't opening.

"No, Bunty," Archie said, examining his hoof, "I was young and handsome and _human_ , a right ass-wipe. A bit like your buddy here," he said, jerking his horns at Jacob.

"Where is my walking stick!?" Ezekiel boomed, waving it at Clara.

"It's in your hand," Clara said slowly, all but spelling it out for him.

"Oh," Ezekiel said, wrongfooted, staring at it.

"Can't you just sort this whole thing out with that wand?" Clara said to Flynn, turning to him.

But he just shook his head, destroying her last hope. "I used up the last of its magic with the collecting cans," he said tiredly, "and it takes twenty four hours to recharge."

"It's a wand though," Clara challenged, "it doesn't run on batteries."

"No, it runs on magic," Flynn snapped, "and magic is like energy" -

\- "Uh, guys, the doors are opening," Archie said, making Flynn falter, but only for a moment.

"One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind," Flynn intoned, before taking a balletic leap into the unknown.

 _I am falling into grace to the unknown_ _  
_ _to where you are and faith_ _  
_ _makes everybody scared_ _  
_ _it's the unknown_ _  
_ _that keeps me hanging on…_

* * *

"Nothing like a brisk walk to clear the cobwebs away," Flynn said, linking Clara's arm through his, as though they were taking a Sunday stroll.

"I am getting a bad feeling about this, Flynn," Jenkins said, glancing round at the Grecian frescoes they'd been following fruitlessly for the past ten minutes. It was literally like being in a labyrinth, wandering passage after passage, setting Jenkins's suspicions off like fire alarms.

"We're on the right track, Jenkins," Flynn said acerbically, losing his good mood, "this has Circe stamped all over it."

"I think this has been modelled on her holiday home actually," Archie said thoughtfully. "That touch of decay just brings back so many fond memories."

"This design is Hellenic," Jacob said, pausing in front of one particular fresco, "you can see it in the curve of the chin, just right here."

They all stopped, staring at him like he'd suddenly started speaking Swahili, Ezekiel half raising his walking stick, unsure whether to strike Jacob or not.

"What?" Jacob shrugged. "It's Grecian art, get over it."

Clara let out a choked sob, before flinging herself into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Um, you okay?" he asked, awkwardly patting her on the head, rather like she was a faithful golden retriever.

"You're back!" Clara cried, pink tears rolling down her cheeks like pearls.

"And you're the colour of candy-floss," Jacob rejoindered, bemused.

"Look who's talking," Jenkins muttered.

"What do you mean I'm back?" Jacob said, drawing back from Clara. "Where did I go?"

"Circe slipped something in your coffee," Flynn explained, stepping forwards, making Jacob do a double-take, "the spell's probably wearing off now. I suspected as much when you identified that vase as Ming."

"I thought you were finding the Library?" Jacob said, bewildered. "And what's with the Liberace look?"

"Stuff and thangs," Flynn said in a cryptic Southern accent. "But to cut to the chase, you're hunting down a Minotaur in your boxer shorts."

Jacob glanced down at himself. "Just another day in the office, then," he said grimly.

"Deal with it," Flynn said smartly, setting off again.

"So what's with Father Time and the Barbie goat?" Jacob asked Clara in an undertone, falling into step beside her as they followed Flynn.

"That's Ezekiel and Archie," Clara explained, "and don't get me started on Jenkins's loin-cloth."

"Don't even mention it," Jacob retorted, "I'm scarred for life now."

"I heard that," Jenkins fired over his shoulder.

"Where's the rest of the gang?" Jacob said, ignoring Jenkins, glancing around him. "And why we all pink?"

"I don't know where Eve and Cassie are," Clara said, "but they're probably still in Manhattan" -

\- "Manhattan?" Jacob said in disbelief.

"I know, some people have all the luck," Archie interjected, looking suitably tragic.

"She talks!?" Jacob said, doing another double-take.

" _He_ talks," Archie corrected him. "Though I'll be anything you want me to be, darling."

"Did a goat just hit on me?" Jacob said, addressing the empty air.

"Yes it did," Clara said, rolling her eyes.

"Where - where are we, then?" Jacob said, eying Archie with fascination.

"Boston, boyo," Archie enlightened him, before sashaying off.

"And why we are pink again?" Jacob said, turning to Clara.

"That was your work," she said tiredly, "and don't ask me to explain either."

"Okay, I won't," Jacob said, the two of them then slowing to a stop as Flynn came to a halt in front of a sign declaring the legend, _Human Resources_. "Nice calligraphy," Jacob observed thoughtfully, "especially with the upper curl of the R" -

\- "What are you, a handwriting expert?" Jenkins said irritably, rounding on him.

"I appreciate art, okay," Jacob retorted, "unlike some people around here" -

\- "Zeke, don't!" Clara cried out, cutting across him, just as Ezekiel flung open a nearby door, Flynn failing to stop him in time.

"Oh," Archie said, surveying the room filled floor to ceiling with skulls.

"Oh indeed," Flynn said weakly, only to spring forwards as Ezekiel suddenly charged the nearest column of skulls, his walking stick raised high above his head. "Ezekiel Jones!" he hollered, hauling him back. "Bloody behave yourself!"

Ezekiel just gnashed his false teeth at him.

"I think we should leave now," Clara said nervously, clutching Flynn's sleeve.

"I think we should too, sugarlump," Flynn agreed.

* * *

"Okay, that wall just disappeared," Jacob said for the third time.

"We're in a magic maze," Flynn said for the fourth time, "walls disappear, doors country dance and windows are the stuff of myth and legend."

As he spoke, a roar echoed around them, making everyone clutch each other. "I am having a serious Goonies moment here," Clara whispered, nearly strangling Jenkins.

"Never say die," Archie quoted aptly.

"We need to move," Flynn said, grabbing Clara's hand and hauling her on, the others sprinting to keep up. They rounded a corner, only to crash into Eve and Cassandra, everyone doing a Jacob and double-taking for dear life.

"Your _hair_ ," Eve exclaimed, pointing at Clara, her other hand flying to her mouth.

"Your _beard_ ," Cassandra aimed at Ezekiel, clutching her head.

"You alright, kid?" Jacob said, grabbing her arm.

"She's been doing that for the past ten minutes," Eve explained, eying everyone with horror, still unable to believe what she was seeing.

"How did you get here?" Clara asked, confused.

"The maze exists in more than three dimensions," Flynn said, glancing around him. "Boston, Manhattan, everywhere."

"I thought you were finding the Library," Eve said, stepping forwards.

"I was - I _am_ ," Flynn corrected himself, "I just got... distracted."

Eve just nodded, unable to do anything else.

"What's _wrong_ with her?" Flynn said, glancing at Cassandra who was now doubled over in agony. "Is it the brain grape?"

"Do not refer to the tumour that's going to kill me as a brain grape!" Cassandra snapped, straightening up, startling everyone with her uncharacteristic venom. "Savvy?"

"Savvy," Flynn agreed, swallowing hard.

"God, you annoy me," Cassandra hissed through gritted teeth, half turning away from him.

"Don't talk to him like that," Clara said, frowning. "He's got the point."

"Do you?" Cassandra said, rounding on her. "It's you who got us into this mess in the first place, jumping into that curiosity cabinet like it was the Caribbean Sea."

"What, are you suggesting I should have abandoned Ezekiel to a rather obscure fate instead?" Clara said, striding forwards, throwing off Flynn's restraining hand.

"I'm suggesting you stop taking things into your own hands," Cassandra said tersely. "Just because you're bedding the boss doesn't automatically grant you the same authority he has over the rest of us" -

Clara slapped her, hard.

Cassandra just stood there, shellshocked, the tears welling up in her eyes. "You _bitch_ ," she whispered, her hand flying to her cheek.

"Better that than a backstabber," Clara said, shaking from head to foot now.

"I know I betrayed you that first time," Cassandra said, her voice cracking, "but I was scared - I - I never intended for you to get hurt, never mind _die_."

"I did die though" -

\- "Look, _I_ have a death sentence inside my head, and they offered me a cure, so what was I supposed to do?"

"Not sell us out for starters" -

\- "God, you're so self-righteous," Cassandra said in disbelief.

"Me, self-righteous?" Clara said in equal disbelief.

"You're always queening it over the rest of us," Cassandra said, "so yes, self-righteous just about sums you up."

"Well, I think treacherous turncoat just about describes you to a T" -

\- "Oh look at _me_ , I'm Clara Hart _lee_ , sacrificing myself for my great Librarian leader like a good girl," Cassandra pouted, prancing about like a prat. "Observe, Flynn, I just got a sword stuck in my side for you" -

\- "That's enough!" Jacob yelled, startling Cassandra to a stop. "You screwed up, deal with it!"

"Screw-up doesn't even cover it," Clara said, tossing her curls back.

"Primp somewhere else, princess," Cassandra spat, flapping her hands at her.

"Traitor" -

\- "Narcissist" -

\- "Squealer" -

\- "Swellhead" -

\- "Ummm, sorry to break up the bitching," Archie interjected, his horns paling, "but I think we have company..."


	12. Circles And Squares

**Circles And Squares**

As the sound of stomping cloven feet drew closer, Cassandra's eyes suddenly went wide, her face lighting up like the Fourth of July. "There's a pattern," she breathed, tracing the air with her hands, "pattern, pattern, _pattern_ \- circles inside of squares inside of triangles." She turned to face the others. "That's why I have a headache," she smiled, "my brain knew we were in a maze before we knew it ourselves."

Clara just slow-clapped, deliberately drawing it out. "Hurray, let's throw a ticker tape parade," she said, "and maybe a party afterwards" -

\- "That's enough, Clara," Eve admonished, rounding on her. "This is _so_ not the time."

"She's right, sweetpea," Flynn said hastily, stepping inbetween them, seeing Clara was about to launch an attack on Eve next, "maybe next year, eh?"

Clara just stared at him, her jaw working.

"Can you get us out of here?" Jacob said, turning to Cassandra.

"Yes," she said in a small voice.

"Let's follow the brain grape, then," Clara said smartly, making to leave.

"Do not refer to it as a brain grape!" Cassandra snapped, stamping her foot, only to freeze as a loud roar reverberated around the chamber. "Okay, let's follow the brain grape," she agreed hastily, before taking off like a startled deer, the others hard on her heels. It was only after the tenth turn they took that Clara suddenly realised they'd lost Eve. But just as she tugged on Flynn's sleeve to tell him, Cassandra skidded to a stop, the others crashing into her, the sight of a towering beast with large curling, curving horns and crimson eyes stopping them in their tracks, quite literally, since it was blocking their way.

"Overcompensating, are we?" Archie said coolly, appraising the Minotaur's horns with disdain.

"Let's not provoke the ancient mythological creature, shall we?" Jacob hissed from the corner of his mouth.

But before Archie could frame a comeback, there was the sound of a single gunshot, making everybody's heads snap up. The Minotaur whirled around, only to see Eve standing there, gun raised, her head tilted to the side. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Eve taunted, making Clara roll her eyes at the cliché. But the Minotaur took the bait, lowering its head, and charging at Eve, only for Eve to start charging at it in return, running like the T-1000 **.**

"No, don't do that!" Flynn exclaimed in agitation, dancing from one foot to the other.

Just as he said this, the Minotaur and Eve were on the cusp of colliding, only for Eve to suddenly hit the floor, sliding under the Minotaur's splayed legs, firing several bullets into the Minotaur's flesh as she did, making it roar in agony, its body collapsing to the ground, the impact causing the corridor to shake like a blancmange.

"What a _woman_ ," Flynn breathed, Clara elbowing him in the side, making him hastily shut up.

"Amen to that," Jacob echoed, staring at Eve as she strutted towards them, looking like he'd been bewitched again, before shaking himself back into semblance.

"Umm, is it meant to do that?" Cassandra said nervously, pointing past Eve's head, all of them looking, only to see the Minotaur staggering to its hooved feet again.

"Time to make tracks, bipeds," Archie said deadpan.

"Follow me!" Cassandra said, taking off again, the others following her example. She led them round several corners, leaving the labyrinth long behind, the walls becoming boring beige, the floor linoleum, all portents of the other world, the constant hum of photocopying machines filling the air. But the Minotaur continued its pursuit unperturbed, the sound of its stomping feet disturbingly close. "In here!" Cassandra cried, darting through a doorway, the others piling after her, Eve slamming the door shut behind them, snapping the lock into place.

As she did, the Minotaur suddenly smashed its head off the window, trying to impale its reflection, making Flynn shake his head. "Not the brightest trick in the book, are we?" he said fondly, Archie chuckling along in accompaniment.

"The door's going in!" Jacob yelled, shoving Clara behind him, Eve shoving him behind her.

"What do we do!?" Jenkins said, turning to Flynn, wringing his wrinkled hands. "There's no other way out!"

Flynn glanced around for a helpful window.

"I've already done that, you anserine ass!" Jenkins bellowed.

"Watch what you're saying," Archie flared up, "I'm half donkey on my mother's side."

"Where is my walking stick!?" Ezekiel roared, again oblivious to the fact he was clutching it for dear life.

"Cassie, do something!" Clara said, rounding on Cassandra.

"I don't know what to do," Cassandra whispered, blue eyes wide and almost wondering. But just as she said this, there was a whirl of pink glitter, making them choke and splutter. When the air cleared, it was only to see the Annex doors flung wide, making everyone do a double-take, the sight of the familiar bookshelves beyond making Clara slump against Jacob with terrible relief. But floating in mid-air, blocking their escape into the Annex, was a fairy, its pretty face marred by massive fangs protruding past its rosebud lips.

"Fleen," the fairy sing-songed. "Wand!"

"My, how you've grown," Flynn observed, flinching as a door hinge flew past his head, "or at least your teeth have," he amended, eying the fairy's incisors critically.

"Fleen!" the fairy repeated. "Wand!"

"If you let us in," Jenkins said quickly, "you can have it!"

"Jerkin," the fairy frowned, "wand?"

"Yes, wand," Jenkins agreed.

The fairy hesitated before floating aside, everybody propelling themselves through the Annex doorway, diving for cover as the other door finally gave way. Dramatically doubling back, Cassandra and Clara hastily slammed the Annex doors shut, backing away as Jacob snatched up a fencing foil, Eve pulling out her gun, Flynn the fairy wand, Ezekiel raising his walking stick. Together, the four of them approached the Annex doors, making Clara and Cassandra look at each other in bewilderment. On the silent count of three, Eve and Jacob exchanged glances, then nods, the two of them flinging the doors open again, all four forming a line, brandishing their respective weapons. But all that greeted them was an empty alleyway, a cat knocking a bin over further down.

"Wand!" the fairy said gleefully, snatching it from Flynn's fingers, before disappearing in a puff of pink smoke.

"Oh joy," Jenkins said dourly, "oh _joy_."

* * *

"Mon cherie," Flynn purred, prowling through the door, resplendent in a crimson velvet suit teamed with a black silk tie.

"Come any closer, and I shall hex you," Jenkins warned, restored to his usual irascible self, sporting a crisp white shirt and emerald green bow-tie. Gathered around the clippings book were Cassandra, Jacob and Ezekiel, the latter minus his beard and false teeth, the effects of Circe's spell finally wearing off. All that remained was a verbal tic, Ezekiel demanding to know where his walking stick was from time to time, before returning back to normal.

Eve sat on the bottom step of the sweeping staircase, trying to console Archie over the loss of his pinkness, looking slightly stunned as she did so. Offering a Kleenex to a talking goat had never been something she envisioned herself doing. Flynn repressed a grin at the sight of her shellshocked face, before glancing around for Clara, but she was nowhere to be seen, panic hitting him in the solar plexus. "Where the hell is Hartley?" he demanded, stalking over to the others, startling them.

"I'm here," Clara said from the doorway, brow furrowing, "I was just looking up Theseus's phone number."

"He's gone ex-directory," Archie whimpered, brushing away an imaginary tear. "Last I heard he was in Elysium."

Flynn ignored this fun fact, striding over to Clara instead, making her take a step back. "What's with you?" she asked, smoothing down the front of her bright blue dress, a deliberate countermand to the pink she'd endured.

"Just... just don't disappear on me again," he said, drawing her to him, his gaze travelling over her face, taking in every facet and detail. Apart from the faint wave of her hair, she was Clara again, snub nose and all.

"Pot calling the kettle black," Clara parried, wrapping her arms around Flynn's neck, Flynn more than willingly surrendering to her will, his lips finding hers, his hands sliding down her hips.

"God, I missed you," Flynn whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

"You're here now," Clara whispered back, ignoring Jenkins's pointed _hem-hem_.

"But it's not enough, is it?" Flynn said, startling her. "You deserve more than this madness. Dating requires dates, not destruction and even more destruction."

"It... it comes with the territory," Clara said, before doing a double-take, "wait, did you just say we're _dating?_ "

"That's precisely my point," Flynn said, frowning, "we're dating without going on _actual_ dates - although, sacrificing your life for mine was pretty romantic" - Clara's answer to this was to pull his face down to hers, silencing him for several long moments. Then Flynn straightened up, straightening his tie, looking pleasedly dazed. "I could get used to that," he said suavely, smoothing his hair back.

"You better," Clara said smartly.

"I fully intend to," Flynn said, drawing her to him again, only for Jenkins to clip him around the ear.

"You're together, we know," Jenkins snapped as Flynn massaged his earlobe, looking wounded, "that newsflash was so... _yesterday_."

"Jenkins has gone Hilary Duff on us," Ezekiel said in a loud aside, "Godspeed."

"Well, I didn't know we were together," Clara flared up, folding her arms across her chest, startling Flynn.

"You didn't?" he said, looking shocked.

"No, I didn't," Clara exclaimed, "you were here and gone, like a hit and run" -

\- "Whoa, this isn't a hit and run," Flynn said, taking her hands in his, "this is me and you, together, properly... like baked beans on toast properly. Hell, I Banished a hell demon to hell for you!"

"Baked beans and toast?" Cassandra said confused.

"You Banished Demos?" Clara said, even more confused.

"Yeah, I did," Flynn said awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other.

Clara studied him for a moment, before casting all decorum to the four winds by casting herself on Flynn's black velvet waistcoat, Flynn wrapping his arms around her.

"I should have asked you out for a drink, shouldn't I?" he said, brow furrowing.

"Ah, the benefits of hindsight," Jenkins said, "and now back to the matter at hand" -

\- "Yes, you should have," Clara said, sighing heavily, "maybe taking in a showreel or two afterwards as well, just so I knew where we stood with each other."

"It's beside me, Hartley," Flynn said, grinning ruefully down at her, "didn't you know that?"

 _Another day and I'm somewhere new_ _  
_ _I made a promise that I'll come home soon_ _  
_ _Bring me back, bring me back to you…_

* * *

"It's the ball of thread," Jenkins said mournfully. "Ariadne's ball of thread to be precise."

"And?" Ezekiel prompted.

"Magic has three parts," Jenkins explained, casting him a withering glance, "the power to change reality; the focus to direct that change; and the effect that change has on the real world."

"The effect would be the Labyrinth," Jacob said thoughtfully, earning a pat on the head from Flynn.

"Precisely," Jenkins said, "Archimedes's former betrothed must have the ball of thread in her possession in order to create that kind of effect in this dimension" -

\- "I gave the ball of thread to Circe," Archie said guiltily, startling everyone, "just after I dumped Akantha at the altar."

"Akantha's Karen, as in Miss. Willis, CEO of Golden Axe Foods?" Eve said, exchanging a glance with Jenkins.

Archie nodded nervously.

Flynn stooped down so he was at eye-level at Archie. "Why do you keep springing these surprises on us, Archie?" he said, dark eyes dancing dangerously. "Every corner we turn seems to lead back to you."

"It seems like your exes have teamed up together to bring hell down on your head," Eve said, rounding on Archie.

"Somebody tried to kidnap Archie before all this happened," Clara interjected, remembering that night Flynn brought Archie to her apartment.

"And Zeus flung the Minotaur out of your flatshare," Jenkins said, advancing on Archie.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Cassandra said, stepping in front of Archie. "The talking goat's just a puzzle piece, a slice of the pizza. Let's not miss the bigger picture here. You said there was a room full of skulls. That means people are being sacrificed to the Minotaur. What we have to ask is _why?_ "

Flynn straightened up, face thoughtful. "You're correct, Cassandra," he said, inclining his head in her direction, "Miss. Willis the CEO formerly known as Akantha, and Circe are teaming up together for a reason, and I would bet my bottom dollar the Serpent Brotherhood are their backers. We have to find out what, why and when, so we can stop them."

"What about Henry Birch?" Clara asked, her voice cracking.

"It might be too late," Flynn said uneasily, "I don't know."

"Golden Axe Foods need to be stopped," Cassandra said firmly.

"So let's stop them," Jacob said, rolling up his sleeves, "before they stop us."


	13. Long John's Long Johns

**Long John's Long Johns**

"I don't like this," Eve said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm not asking you to babysit him," Flynn said, trying to keep his temper, "just to get him in and out of the building alive."

"But this is _Ezekiel Jones_ we're talking about," Eve argued. "If the shit hits the fan, he'll bail with that ball of thread before you can blink."

"You're not going to bail on us, are you, Ezekiel?" Flynn said, rounding on Ezekiel. "You're going to saunter in there and steal a priceless magical artefact for us like a good boy, savvy?"

Ezekiel nodded, swallowing hard. Flynn had overruled Jacob's suggestion of going into Golden Axe Food's headquarters and breaking a few jaws. Instead, Flynn formulated a plan involving Eve and Ezekiel entering the building incognito, and stealing the ball of thread, whilst Cassandra led the others back into the Labyrinth to see if Henry Birch or anyone else could still be saved. Ezekiel had been a mad old man when Karen had seen him, and Flynn was sure she wouldn't recognize him in his true form, or Eve either, who hadn't been present first time round.

"You need to nail this, Zeke," Flynn said seriously. "The thread is the power that's holding it all together. If you get it, it'll be like taking the battery out of a car. No more Labyrinth, no more sacrifices."

"What about the Minotaur?" Clara asked anxiously.

"We'll deal with that delicious dilemma later," Flynn said, doing a twirl.

"But the Minotaur's in the Labyrinth," Clara pressed.

"Later, Clara," Flynn trilled, executing another twirl.

"But if we destroy the ball of thread first," Jacob said, brow furrowing, "the Labyrinth won't exist anymore. So really, we don't need to go into the Labyrinth" -

\- "We _have_ to go into the Labyrinth," Flynn suddenly snapped, rounding on them, "if anyone's in there, we have to get them out, or it's puff of smoke time for them _and_ the Labyrinth. Two birds, one stone, remember?"

"The Minotaur shall fade out of existence as well," Jenkins said loftily, "when we destroy the ball of thread, the whole multi-dimensional hoo-ha collapses in on itself with a _whoosh._ " He illustrated his whoosh with a wave of his hands.

"Indeed," Flynn said, eying him oddly. "Let's hit the high notes, troops," he then said, leading them to the back door. "It's time to rock and roll."

 _When it's you and me_ _  
_ _We don't need no one to tell us who to be…_

* * *

Flynn closed the doors on Eve and Ezekiel, looking rather smug with himself. "I thought that wasn't going to work," he said to Jenkins, "but it did, very well."

"Indeed," Jenkins echoed, folding his hands together. "And your idea to send Ezekiel undercover in the guise of an intern was inspired."

"I know," Flynn agreed.

Clara did a double-take. "Wait, when did that happen?" she said, bewildered. "When did Ezekiel become an intern!?"

"It's in the magical documentation I provided him with," Flynn said, looking at her like she was mad. "Eve's flexing her bureaucracy muscles, and Ezekiel's an intern. It's the only way to get them in through the front door whilst we go in through the back."

"But they're sacrificing the interns!" Clara said, now dancing on the spot with rage.

"Oh," Flynn said, as though this idea had just occurred to him.

"Wait a minute, what does sacrificing interns achieve anyways?" Cassandra asked again, confused. "You never quite answered that small question."

"Power," Archie said simply. "We used to slip the Minotaur a tortilla or two and we'd get free cable for a month. It was brilliant."

"But what about blood sacrifices?" Jacob said, stepping forwards. "What kind of power would that generate?"

"The kind of power usually accorded to gods," Archie said uneasily, not liking the way everyone was looking at him.

"You're the one that gave Circe the ball of thread," Clara said slowly, circling the goat, "and you lived with the Minotaur. You were engaged to that CEO person - it keeps coming back to you, Archie!"

"Hey, I told you I used to be an ass-wipe!" Archie retorted. "I never pretended otherwise. Now my sins have come home to roost, and I want to make up for my mistakes. Why do you think I'm here, laying my horns on the line for you lot!?"

They all stared at him, wrongfooted.

"But how long have these sacrifices been going on for?" Clara said, brow furrowing. "If you gave the ball of thread to Circe centuries ago" -

\- "Millennia morehaps," Jenkins said dourly.

"Yeah, probably," Archie said, running his hoof down his face, "this is going way back."

"So why did it take so long for the clippings book to flag it up?" Clara said incredulously.

"Backlog," Jenkins said simply, giving a globe a twirl.

"Circe said she'd just _started_ the Minotaur as a sideline," Flynn said suddenly, "but the sacrifices have been occurring for thousands of years" -

\- "Akatha stole the ball of thread from Circe," Jenkins said suddenly, his grey head snapping up, startling everyone, "as revenge for taking her fiancé. Circe thought it lost to the annals of time until she discovered the truth two Tuesdays ago. But instead of seeking revenge, she saw it as another way to increase her power, joining forces with Akatha, and oh Oklahoma, here I come!" Jenkins slumped forwards, hitting the table facefirst.

"What in the name of Long John's long johns was that!?" Archie exclaimed.

"I think... I think Jenkins was being possessed by the Annex," Flynn said, glancing around him. "But I'm not sure. Thanks for the heads-up though!" He waved merrily up at the ceiling just to be on the safe side.

"Is - is that even possible?" Cassandra asked nervously, drawing away from everyone in case possession was contagious.

"Don't look at me," Flynn said, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm not the go-to guy for insane but helpful architecture."

"Haven't we got a Henry Birch to save?" Jacob said pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, we do," Clara said primly, grabbing Flynn's hand. "So let's save the sacrifices."

* * *

"I thought we were meant to be saving the sacrifices, not becoming one!" Clara hissed, crouching down behind some crates.

"Better us than Ezekiel," Flynn said flippantly, craning his neck around his own stack of crates.

"True," Archie agreed, "if the Minotaur's trying to kill us, he's not trying to kill Ezekiel."

"Sweet," Jacob said sarcastically.

Instead of the back door leading into the Labyrinth, it had led to a back alley in Boston. After wandering a few charmingly Colonial streets, they'd walked smack bang into a black bandana wearing biker guy, Clara nearly knocking herself out on his biceps. Despite Flynn apologizing for creasing the biker's already battered leather jacket, smoke had starting issuing from his flared nostrils, the pupils of his eyes turning red. The Minotaur had apparently decided to come to them, instead of the other way around. After a hot pursuit through the same charmingly Colonial streets they'd just been wandering, Flynn had managed to shake off the Minotaur by overturning a hot dog stand, using the distraction to drag the others down an alleyway, where they were hiding now, Cassandra frantically calibrating.

"Seven times seven is forty nine, forty nine times seven is three forty three," she muttered, tracing manic patterns in the air, "seven points on a heptagon, seven is an _obscene_ prime, the seven deadly sins, two to the third minus one equals seven, the seven year itch - it's there!"

"Where?" Clara asked, confused.

"In there!" Cassandra said, doing a little dance.

"In where?" Archie exclaimed. "The darkest depths of Ding Ling?"

"In there!" Cassandra said, jabbing in the direction of a doorway opposite.

"Okay," Flynn said hastily, grabbing her jerking arm, "take the others in there, and see if there's anyone still alive. Karen might have found the time to squeeze in another sacrifice, we just don't know, which is why we have to check. Whilst you're doing that delightful deed, I'll tinker out something with Taurus, savvy?"

Cassandra nodded, the others reluctantly agreeing as well to the plan.

"Good," Flynn said, clapping his hands together, "now off you toddle!"


	14. A Thorn In My Side

**A Thorn In My Side**

"Wait up," Clara said, spying something in the shadows, "what's that?"

Following the path of her pointed finger, Jacob stooped down, picking up a name badge bent in half. "Uh, it says Henry Birch," he said uneasily, making Clara's face fall.

"Where's the rest of him?" Archie said, glancing around him.

"Here," Cassandra answered from around the corner.

"Don't wander off, Cass!" Jacob admonished, tearing after her, only to skid to a halt at the sight in front of him. Cassandra was half slumped against a wall, a pile of bones lying at her feet, along with the remains of what once been a pinstriped suit. "Oh," he said, tugging at his shirt collar.

"I - I can't do this," Cassandra said, sliding to the floor, wrapping her arms around her head, "there's too many dimensions for me to deal with." The others looked at each other, at a loss what to do next. Without Cassandra, they were marooned here. She had been leading them through the Labyrinth, shouting into the shadows, hoping a human voice would answer, making their mission worthwhile. But silence was the only answer they received, and now Cassandra was collapsing on them, before they'd even reached the heart of the maze.

"You can, Cassie," Jacob said, kneeling down beside her.

"I can't!" Cassandra wailed, "I just can't!"

"Yes, you bloody can!" Clara said, startling them all. "So get to it, girl!"

"You can't trust me," Cassandra said quietly, blue eyes brimming with tears, "I let you down once, and I've been doing it ever since - I'm doing it right now, Clara!"

"You... you did me over, Cassie," Clara said, her voice cracking, "but you didn't let me down. I'm only _here_ because of _you_."

Cassandra studied Clara, her face becoming determined, only for her mouth to tremble. "I - I can't hold it," she said, "it's - it's too much."

"Close your eyes," Jacob instructed, taking her hands in his, "and focus on your other senses."

"Me and my other senses don't get along so well," Cassandra said, smiling weakly.

"I'll be your senses if you'll be my sat-nav," Jacob almost teased.

Cassandra nodded, biting her lip.

"So just close your eyes," Jacob repeated, "and see the map inside your head."

She shut her eyes, wrinkling her retroussé nose.

"I'll lead you through," Jacob said gently, "so follow me..."

* * *

"Hold your horns, what was that?" Archie said, skidding to a stop.

"What was what?" Cassandra asked nervously, opening her eyes, only for Jacob to cover them with his hand.

"That," Archie said, jabbing his hoof in the direction of a distant scream. They all looked at each other, before taking off, following the sound like Ariadne's ball of thread, only to collide with Flynn and the girl from earlier on, Jenny, the one who had been wittering on about the Tokyo office.

"Fancy meeting you lot down here," Flynn said, straightening his cuffs, "and off we go again!"

"Minotaur?" Clara yelled as they ran.

"How did you know?" Flynn yelled back.

"A wild guess," Clara countered.

"Who's the broad?" Jacob bellowed, glancing at the girl.

"You've met before," Flynn explained, rounding a corner, "back in reception."

Jacob frowned, clearly confused. "She a sacrifice?" he hazarded.

"And the last," Flynn flung back.

"Wait!" Cassandra cried, stumbling to a stop. For a moment, the world was as it was, then the frescoes flickered and faded, becoming bland beige. "This way," Cassandra said quickly, leading them down the corridor.

"It's okay," Jacob said, falling into step beside Jenny, "you're safe now."

"With Jacob's manly arms around you, you'll always be far from the fray," Flynn smiled smarmily, making Clara punch him on his own arm.

"In here," Cassandra called, tottering to a halt in front of a rather tipsy looking door. "This is where we need to be."

* * *

"I'll just shut down the tazers," Ezekiel smirked to himself, flipping a switch, pleased at how well his latest theft was progressing. "And that ball of thread is now mine oh mine," he said, striking a pose, before swaggering over to the glass cabinet the ball of thread was displayed in.

"I don't think so," a voice said, making Ezekiel's head snap up, only to see the legendary spurned CEO of Archie's ass-wipe youth pointing a gun in the direction of his aforementioned head. "Step aside smart-ass," she spat, her finger curling around the trigger.

"Um, hi Akatha?" Ezekiel said, wincing a little. "Or is it Miss. Willis nowadays, Karen even?"

"You were instructed to report to Human Resources," Karen said, jaw tightening.

"I wasn't digging the vibe down there," Ezekiel said, backing away, "the skulls are sort of spoiling the mood, y'know?"

"Oh, another one of Archimedes's converts," Karen sneered, "his taste in groupies seems to have changed though," she said, eying Ezekiel with disgust.

"I'm brainy, not brawny," Ezekiel apologized, "but I would totally subscribe to the Twitter feed of a talking goat."

"I saw Flynn Carsen's joined the ranks," Karen said, advancing on him, "along with half of the Round Table."

"We accept your surrender," Ezekiel said, holding his hands up, brow furrowing slightly, not understanding her Arthurian reference

"You seriously think you can stop me?" Karen said in disbelief.

"I do," Ezekiel grinned.

"Golden Axe has been sacrificing innocents to the Labyrinth for three thousand years, so I think it's a little bit late in the game for you to start now" -

\- "If you want to get revenge on your ex, date a guy that's hotter than him," Ezekiel advised. "Don't start sacrificing your self-respect as well as a few innocents."

Karen stared at him, her lips trembling. "This - this isn't about Archimedes," she said, "not anymore. It's about power" -

\- "The power of love!" Flynn boomed, bursting through the door, the others piling in behind him. "Isn't it a wonderful thi-a-a-ng" - only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of Karen's gun trained in his direction - "and don't die for me again, Clara, once was quite enough, thank you very much," Flynn finished, forcing Clara behind him.

"Carsen," Karen said, acknowledging him.

"Karen," Flynn acknowledged in return, "or Miss. Willis, even Akatha."

"Hello there," Karen then sing-songed over his shoulder at Clara, "didn't we cross curses at Baba Yaga's baby shower?"

Clara just looked blankly at her, confused.

"I didn't recognize you at first, not with the candyfloss curls," Karen continued, unperturbed, "but it hit me during a boardroom meeting later on. Quite the shock, I should say."

Clara just patted her hair into place self-consciously, if albeit even confused now.

"Where's the other one?" Karen fired at Flynn. "Is he off on another quest?"

"He's here and there," Flynn said, shifting from one foot to the next, not liking where this was going. He'd left Jenkins back at the Annex, and for good reason, this reason.

"I used to jive with Jenkins," Karen said nostalgically, "not that he'd remember. Circe made sure that he wouldn't, which is just typical of her."

As she spoke, Archie tried and failed to become invisible.

"Nuh, huh, honey," Karen said, shaking her finger at him, "that trick won't work in here. Trust me, I've tried."

Archie swallowed hard.

"Did you not see the headlines, sugar?" Karen said, shaking from head to foot now. " 'Abandoned at the Athenian altar by Archimedes.' The alliteration alone would have killed me, never mind the humiliation!"

"Uh, can we return to the matter at hand, please?" Jacob interjected. "Like how you're sacrificing your staff to an ancient being?"

"Oh, Circe is _mad_ at you," Karen said, aiming her ire at him now, "and you were supposed to report to Human Resources," she snapped, rounding on Jenny. "Are you that dim you can't follow a direct order?"

"What to die?" Jacob flared up.

"Whatever," Karen said, halting him with a heavily manicured hand, "kids today have no initiative."

"I completely agree with you," Circe said, stepping out from the shadows. "No initiative at all."

 _Oh, at dawn_ _  
_ _I'll face the edge of thorns_ _  
_ _Oh, at dawn_ _  
_ _I'll pray at the edge of thorns_ _  
_ _Oh, at dawn_ _  
_ _I'll face the edge of thorns…_ _  
_


	15. Let Bygones Be Bygones

**Let Bygones Be Bygones**

"I was wondering when you were going show up," Flynn said, examining his cuffs.

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing three years ago when you stood me up at that Greek restaurant," Circe countered, looking characteristically stunning in a flowing black maxi-dress, Jacob dribbling despite himself.

"I had a pigeon to save," Flynn said, shrugging his shoulder.

"And as I noticed earlier, I see you've moved on," Circe said, her gaze flickering in Clara's direction.

"I've moved up in the world," Flynn said smoothly.

"Archimedes," Circe said, ignoring Flynn's insult, "it's been a long time."

"Not long enough," Archie said darkly.

"And Jacob," Circe said, turning to him, only for Cassandra to step in front of him.

"You leave him alone," Cassandra said defiantly, tilting her chin.

"How clever of you to co-ordinate your hair and temper," Circe cooed, exchanging a mocking glance with Karen.

"Could we hurry this along a bit?" Ezekiel said impatiently. "I've got a b" -

\- "birdcage he _so_ doesn't want to go back into," Flynn said hurriedly, whilst wondering where the hell Eve was.

Circe laughed at this, the sound strangely metallic, like gears grinding together. "I suppose this is the part where I confess all my sins to you," she said seductively, trailing her finger along Ezekiel's arm. "It was Akatha who singlehandedly modernized the process, but it was I who had the idea of spreading the sacrifices out over the year, instead of doing them all at once. It increases the overheads but the decrease in visibility means the return on investment is even higher on a per intern basis" -

\- "You killed Henry, didn't you," Jenny said, almost in a daze.

Circe smirked. "No, it was the Minotaur who did that, dear one," she said, "I don't like to dirty my hands" -

Jenny slapped her, the sound ringing around the room.

"Ouch," Flynn said, wincing.

Circe straightened up, her jaw working. No mortal had ever dared to lay hands on her since Odysseus.

"But Akatha stole the ball of thread from you," Jacob said, distracting Circe, "so why go into business with her?"

"You know what they say, let bygones be bygones," Circe snapped, losing her customary cool.

"You've got to spend money to make money," Ezekiel smirked.

"Oh, I knew I liked you for a reason," Circe sneered, rounding on him, looking ugly for an instant.

But before Ezekiel could frame a suitably snappy comeback, the walls rippled around them, startling everyone, even Circe. Then the biker was suddenly in the room, morphing from man to Minotaur, pawing the ground with its hoof and tossing its horns back. But every time he tried to lunge forwards, he head-butted some kind of unseen force field that was keeping him contained, making the air shimmer oddly, sending hot pink sparks flying, the sight making Clara clutch Flynn's arm.

"How?" Circe said, rounding on Karen.

"Don't look at me!" Karen shrieked. "I'm not doing this!"

"It's magic," Flynn said, glancing around him, "fairy magic" -

As he spoke, the fairy from before dived at Circe, sprinkling her with fairy dust, turning her hot pink. Circe stood there screaming, Archie following the fairy, shouting, "do me next!" The fairy duly obliged, cackling to itself, its fangs looking even more fearsome than ever. Karen was frozen to the spot, paralysed by indecision, wanting to run, but not wanting to leave the ball of thread, her gun now raised in Ezekiel's direction again, reading his mind like a book. Flynn was about to appeal to the fairy's better nature for help, but remembered just in time it didn't have one. Dumping the Minotaur in their midst was its idea of fun, and it would only be a matter of moments before it unleashed it on them.

"What the hell" - Eve spluttered, appearing out of thin air, startling everyone all over again.

"Where the hell did you go!?" Jacob demanded.

"I was in the canteen," she said, turning wildly on the spot, "being chased by Frankfurt" -

\- "My name's Franklin!" Franklin, appearing out of thin air as well.

"Fanlin!" the fairy shrieked, showering him with pink stars.

"Ahhh!" Franklin screeched, falling to his knees. "I'm _magenta!_ "

At this moment, the Minotaur broke free of its prison, charging Karen who turned tail, the others scattering for cover as well.

"Zeke, duck!" Eve yelled, pulling out her gun.

Ezekiel duly ducked, Eve blasting the ball of thread's glass case to smithereens. "Thanks!" Ezekiel smirked, snatching up the ball of thread, Flynn twirling past him, dancing Clara along in his wake.

"Throw it to me!" Cassandra ordered, jumping up and down on the desk she was now standing upon.

"Why?" Ezekiel said, passing the ball of thread from hand to hand.

"What, you don't trust me?" Cassandra said, looking crestfallen.

"I do, but I'm just curious why I should throw it to you," Ezekiel answered, brow furrowing.

"Just throw the damn thing!" Jacob bellowed from under Cassandra's desk, Jenny huddling beside him.

"Do it!" Archie yelled.

"Yes, do!" Eve agreed, the Minotaur's horns missing her by inches.

"Okay," Ezekiel said, shrugging his shoulders. He tossed it through the air, the ball of thread unravelling, becoming Barbie pink as it unspooled, Karen and Circe diving for it, Cassandra catching it before they did.

"Magic depends on symbols," Flynn wheezed as the walls began to shake, "and what better symbol for a Labyrinth than a straight line wrapped around and around itself?"

"My point precisely!" Cassandra cried, punching the air with her free hand, clutching the ball of thread with the other.

"Great minds think alike!" Flynn shouted, doing a double air punch in return. "Now hit the deck, troops!" He pulled Clara onto the juddering ground, the others hastily following his example as a beam of white light issued from the Minotaur's mouth, engulfing it and the room, making the teeth rattle in their heads. As they lowered their arms, it was only to see the Minotaur was gone, as if it had never been, taking the Labyrinth with it.

" _What have you done?_ " Karen breathed, rounding on them.

"I see your business partner's bailed on you," Flynn said, standing up, gesturing to the spot Circe had stood. "At least she has the sense to know when she's been outmanoeuvred."

"Checkmate," Clara said, popping the T.

Karen just stood there, seething, before suddenly lunging at Flynn, only to disappear in a puff of pink smoke.

"Oh," Flynn said, tilting his head to the side. Lying on the ground on the spot where Karen had stood, was a Barbie doll, its features twisted in an angry grimace, its small fist raised. It even had a tiny plastic gun. Beside it was Franklin immortalized as a pink Ken, his own face forever trapped in a tearful expression.

"Classy," Ezekiel observed, raising an ironic eyebrow.

"Very," Clara agreed.

The fairy cackled overhead before vanishing in a burst of pink sparks, Flynn raising his hand in fond farewell.

"Is it over?" Jenny shakily asked, clutching Jacob, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her too close for Clara's taste.

"It's over," Eve said grimly, exhaling sharply.

"We made it," Cassandra said, clasping her hands together, awestruck.

"This time," Jenkins said from behind them, ever the eternal optimist, the Annex doors flung wide open in welcome.

 _I'm coming home_ _  
_ _I'm coming home_ _  
_ _Tell the world I'm coming home…_


	16. You Belong With Me

**You Belong With Me**

"You should have seen Cassandra," Ezekiel said, leaning against Flynn's desk, ignoring its protests, "she took the fight right to the big bad."

"And Ezekiel didn't bail," Cassandra said, bestowing a smile on him.

"Well done," Jenkins said, rolling his eyes.

"I don't think standing on a desk was taking the fight to the big bad," Clara said, brow furrowing.

"Oh no, I didn't mean that," Ezekiel corrected Clara, "I meant when she gave you both barrels back in the Labyrinth. I remember that part - everything else, nah. I particularly liked swellhead" -

\- "And did you get that charming girl's number?" Flynn said hastily, turning to Jacob. "You know, Jenny."

"No, I didn't," Jacob said, looking shifty, implying the opposite.

"How is Archibald enjoying his permanent state of pinkness?" Eve asked, straightening a pile of books, only for them to unstraighten themselves again.

"He's loving it," Flynn said fondly. "He'll be halfway to Honolulu by now," he said, brow furrowing, "first class obviously."

"What do we do with them?" Clara said, still glaring at Ezekiel, before gesturing to the ball of thread and Barbie dolls.

"Without the ball of thread to serve as a power source, the Labyrinth shrivelled up," Flynn explained, "taking the Minotaur out of existence at the same time. All we can do with it, along with our little friends, is archive them. Anything else is impossible with the Library gone, and yes, I will be back out there, tracking it down," he said, turning to Jenkins, feeling his disapproving stare boring into his back. 'You're the one that called me," he reminded Jenkins.

"So I did," Jenkins said dourly.

* * *

"Hey," Cassandra said quietly, making Clara raise her head from where she was leaning over the ornate railing on the upper storey.

"Hey," Clara said uneasily.

"Look, things got a little heated in there," Cassandra said carefully. "I just want to clear the air."

"I think we did, sort of," Clara said awkwardly.

"Sort of," Cassandra echoed, smiling weakly.

"With Flynn, I'm not" - Clara began, only to stop short, colouring slightly. "I mean, I care about him, not who he is. I'm not interested in power, not like Circe and Karen. It doesn't mean anything to me, but Flynn does."

"Speaking of Circe," Ezekiel said, making them whirl around, "where did she go?"

"Hopefully back to the slime pool she came from," Cassandra sniffed.

"Hot damn she did," Clara agreed fervently. "It might teach her not to mess with us again."

"Us?" Ezekiel exclaimed. "It was me who stopped her singlehandedly."

"I don't think so," Cassandra said, shaking her head.

"I do think so," Ezekiel said, puffing out his chest.

Clara and Cassandra just exchanged glances, before walking away, leaving Ezekiel on his own.

"I was awesome," he said to their retreating backs. "Admit it!"

* * *

Clara and Flynn were having what Flynn called a 'parting picnic' on the riverbank outside the Annex, sharing one last hurrah together before he left to start his search for the Library again. Clara was cradling Flynn's head in her lap, Flynn comfortably cushioned by her billowing blue skirts, her fingers stroking back his dark hair. It was a rare moment of rest, Clara watching the sun set on the far horizon, her thoughts twisting and turning like the Labyrinth itself.

"There's something wrong with me, isn't there?" she said suddenly, startling Flynn.

"What in the name of Persephone's pomegranate seeds do you mean?" he said, sitting up.

"I don't know, except that it's staring me right in the face, but I just can't see it," Clara said, shrugging her shoulders.

Flynn forced his face into its usual eccentric lines, understanding now, not wanting her to know he knew.

Clara stared out across the river, dark eyes distant, voice low. "Growing up, I had pictures of Lancelot on my wall" -

\- "That figures," Flynn muttered mutinously.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, pray continue."

"I've been obsessed with King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table all my life," Clara continued, almost imperiously, "ever since I was a little girl, they were all I could think about. My mother was obsessed, and I inherited that obsession from her - my middle name is Guinevere for chrissake!" she snapped, throwing up her hands, making Flynn wince, her words touching too much on truth for his taste. "But since I've met you, it's like that love has been crushed down, censored even," she finished, picking up a doily, almost absentmindedly tearing it into strips.

Flynn exhaled sharply, feeling cornered by Clara. He thought he'd thrown her off the scent before he'd left to look for the Library, but obviously this was wishful thinking on his part. But she couldn't know, not now, not this day. "When I first met you, you didn't come across as obsessed with Olde Arthur," he said slowly, making Clara glance up, "there was just little glimpses, flashes of this almost insane" -

\- "I schooled myself to hide it," Clara flared up, startling Flynn again, "it freaked people out so I repressed it, denied it, denying myself" -

\- "Clara, calm down," Flynn said, sensing the storm was about break. "Just take a chill pill, savvy?"

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. "All I'm saying, is that I learned to hide who I really was from the world," she said stiffly, "but ever since I arrived here, it feels like I'm being suffocated."

Flynn glanced down at the grass, not sure what he could say to that. It was clear to him Clara's consciousness had been shielding her from her sub-conscious, self-preservation in its most extreme form, the Library later trying to protect Clara from herself. Perhaps this protection continued to manifest itself in Clara's apparent obliviousness over being called Gwen or Guinevere, the references to a past she couldn't remember passing right over her head, the Library still shielding her even now.

"Everybody else has their place here," Clara said, smoothing down the folds of her dress, "Eve's our Guardian, you're _the_ Librarian - Jake has his knowledge of art and culture, as well as his fists, Cassandra her numbers, Ezekiel his light fingers. I'm supposed to be highly intelligent and academically brilliant, but I don't bring that to the table, only anger and violence. I - I don't know where I belong, Flynn."

Her eyes met Flynn's, almost pleading, making Flynn's heart fracture in his chest. _Because you don't know who you are, and you can't know,_ Flynn thought, remembering Guinevere, her passion for power, the reckless rage; that storm that was perhaps still slumbering inside Clara. By lying to Clara, he was denying her, fulfilling Guinevere's prophecy. It had never been about Clara becoming a Librarian, but of finally facing the truth of what she really was. But to learn herself would be to lose herself.

Taking Clara's hand in his, Flynn looked across the river, his dark eyes as distant as hers. "To quote Taylor Swift," he said, turning to Clara, "you belong with me."

 _Standing by and waiting at your back door_  
 _All this time how could you not know, baby?_  
 _You belong with me…_

 _ **The End**_

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone that read, reviewed, followed and favourited this story, particularly **Crystal-Wolf-Guardain-967**. The sequel, _A Christmas Clara,_ can be found under the 'My Stories' section of my profile.


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